The Exile: Book 2 of the Greenwood Trilogy
by Kathoran
Summary: Princess Aeyera has been in exile for 170 years. Now she travels to the Lonely Mountain with a company of dwarves, but there's a problem: she's sworn to protect The Line of Durin. The elves of Mirkwood have turned their backs on her, and though the dwarves of Erebor have accepted her as one of their own, their feelings may change when they find that she is in love with their prince
1. Chapter 1

**Hello all! I just wish to let you know that I am revising the First book of the Greenwood Trilogy. Some of you will have noticed the revision tags on the chapters and will ignore this, others will not have seen them (since I hadn't fixed them yet). So far, only a few of the chapters are completely revised, but I am working quickly and diligently on them. I would advise you to go back and check them, for they will help your understanding of the next two books. Thank you!**

It's been nearly a month since the eagles rescued us from Azog the Defiler, and we have travelled nearly a quarter of the distance from the Carrock to the Lonely Mountain. My ankle has healed, and most of the blood I lost after being flogged by the "Great Goblin" in the caves of the Misty Mountains has returned, so that I am not dizzy and lightheaded all the time anymore. The lashes I received have long since scabbed over and are, thanks to Oin's healing skills and the Athelas I found along the way, now nearly all scars, although some scabs remain.

I have grown much closer to the company since Thorin's acceptance of me, and have especially grown closer to the king and to his nephews.

In the last month, I have come to realize that… that I have developed feelings for Kili. Feelings that I should only feel towards a mate: a husband. Feelings that I must ignore for the sake of my promise: to protect the line of Durin. I know as well as anyone that love—if my feelings can be called that—can mess up even the most elaborate and foolproof plan imaginable, and I will not allow my feelings to endanger the lives of the King and his kin.

"Aeyera," Thorin called. I looked up, breaking out of my thoughts, and looked him in the eye. We stood at the same height; he and nephews all were exceptionally tall for dwarves, and I was exceptionally small for an elf. However, the fact that neither of us had a distinct height advantage over the other seemed to heighten his respect for me for whatever reason, and he did not often bring it up. "Take Bilbo and go up the ridge; make sure the orcs haven't caught up to us. You're the smallest and lightest of us; if anyone else went, they'd hear and pick up our trail."

I was slightly affronted at the "you're the smallest" comment but chose to ignore it since he was correct; if any other member of the company tried to scout out the location of an orc pack, the pack would hear them coming from a mile away and we would all be dead. I nodded, looking him in the eye. "Be right back," I said, flipping backwards and landing in a tree with barely a rustle. I grinned and looked down at their stunned faces, nearly laughing at their expressions. "Come on, Bilbo," I whispered, leaping to a neighboring tree.

Since I was an elf and had excellent hearing, I was able to hear Kili as he whispered to his brother, and I was able to hear Fili's quick response. The brothers had moved to the edge of the group and a bit away from the bulk of dwarves; no one without the ears of an elf could have heard them. "She's different… a good different," the former whispered longingly to his elder brother. "She's beautiful."

The latter responded sharply, his voice low. "She is not yours, brother. She never will be; she is an elfling, you are a dwarf prince."

"She's a princess too," he argued. I stayed in my perch, silent, as Bilbo looked around for me, confused but unwilling to call my name in case someone unwelcome might hear his cry. The other dwarves were hidden from sight by the foliage, and I was sure they thought I was long gone by now.

"But she still is an elf. And even if uncle thought it alright for you to court her—which he doesn't—it would not be acceptable."

His hesitant reply reached my ears and made my heart crack. "She could pass for a dwarf…" Kili suggested softly. I looked down. _Never good enough for anyone._

"No she couldn't, Kee," Fili said softly. "She's my friend as well as yours, brother, but… even if she had feelings for you, the two of you could never be together. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too," I whispered, looking down. A tear fell from my eye as I leaped down and landed in a crouch next to Bilbo, who had nearly given up hope of ever finding me.

He jumped, startled. "Princess!" He yelped. I heard as rustle and looked up, meeting the blue eyes of Thorin's eldest nephew. They widened at the side of my red-rimmed eyes and the tear on my face and I immediately looked away, wiping the tear off my cheek.

"Let's go, Bilbo," I said quietly, my voice slightly choked up.

He followed hesitantly behind me, playing with his fingers. "Are you alright, Aeyera?" he asked, watching me carefully as I picked up the pace. "You seem upset…"

I smiled sadly, looking out at the setting sun and listening for any sound of danger. "I'm alright, Bilbo," I replied softly. "I'm just… homesick is all."

_Sick of not having a home, more like, since I don't have one anyway, _I thought.

He looked doubtful but accepted my answer all the same. "Oh… alright," he said, moving quickly to match my longer strides as we neared the edge of a precipice. "Where are we going?"

I shook my head and gestured to a point several miles away, all the while keeping my pointer finger pressed against my lips. I crouched down low to the ground as Bilbo looked at what I had pointed to: the orc pack. He gasped and fell down to my level, breathing heavily. I looked around scouting out any other nearby threats. My heart stopped at what I saw. "They're quite close," he whispered, his voice shaking. "Should we warn the others?"

His voice was distant, and I mutely nodded as I stared at the beast behind him, which had not yet spotted us. It was like a bear but was much, much larger, and its muzzle was pulled back in a snarl. Its yellow gaze was locked on the orc pack, and I was terrified that its gaze would fall on Bilbo and I. I knew this creature: his human form was a dear friend of mine who went by the name of Beorn. However, his animal form was unpredictable—a beast to be reckoned with, and I had no desire to meet him in a fight.

"Princess?" Bilbo was asking, his voice a whisper. I snapped back to myself and leaned forward, covering his mouth with my hand and pulling him away. As I pulled, keeping my hand firmly over his mouth, he spotted Beorn, and his face turned white. He turned and bolted, leaving me behind, and I looked once more over to the ridge where the orc pack had been. They now were galloping down the mountain, and although they hadn't seen us, I had a feeling that they'd picked up our scent.

I turned and ran, following after the halfling and making no more noise than a gentle breeze that makes its way through leaves on warm summer nights. When I reached the Company, Bilbo was already in their midst, and I made a point to avoid the gaze of Fili, whom I assumed would be having words with me later on.

"I'm trying to tell you that there's something else out there," Bilbo was saying, trying to capture the attention of the thirteen dwarves. They all turned to him, startled, but Gandalf was the first to speak up.

"What form did it take?" he asked. "Was it that of a bear?"

"Yes, Gandalf," I said, stepping forward and cutting off Bilbo's stammering reply. "But we need to go _now._"

His bright eyes narrowed slightly as he looked me over, frowning. "What happened to you?" he asked quietly. The dwarves looked from me to the wizard, confused and anxious. I myself was somewhat confused, wondering if he referred to my missing years, my red-rimmed eyes, or my short temper. A growl reached my ears, and though it was faint and far away—even with _my_ hearing it was barely audible—I jumped, startled. Gandalf took this into account and turned to the others, dismissing his curiosity for the moment. I twisted my brother's ring nervously, watching the wizard carefully.

"There is a house," Gandalf said, looking around at all the dwarves. "It's not far from here, where we might take refuge."

"Whose house?" Thorin asked, wary of the wizard's ideas since the eagles snatched his company off the side of a mountain. "Is he friend or foe?"

"Neither," the wizard answered. "He will help us, or he will kill us."

"What choice do we have?" Thorin asked, his face filled with doubt as I moved over to Gandalf's side.

"None," the wizard answered. I placed my hand on his shoulder, pulling him down a bit, and stood on my tiptoes so that I could whisper in his ear. The other dwarves slowly began to move in the direction Gandalf had indicated, giving me searching looks. "Mithrandir… are you sure this is the right choice? He is not a friend of dwarves."

"Nor is he normally a friend to elves. You have met him?" Gandalf asked, surprised. He frowned suddenly, his eyes going to the scars visible on my shoulder and neck. "How?"

A roar suddenly split the air, making everyone in the group jump and begin to run, leaving all questions for a later date. We began sprinting down the hill and charging through woods, crashing through the undergrowth with no thought of stealth. Not for the first time I considered circling around and taking out the orcs as they approached from behind—I certainly was fast enough—but I decided against it. We were close to Dol Guldur, too close, and I had no desire to be captured again.

Kili suddenly tripped in front of me, face planting, and I skidded, trying to come to a stop. However, he was too close to me and I was moving too quickly, I tripped over him, landing hard on the ground several feet away and cursing when my ankle twisted under me. I scrambled to my feet and pulled the blushing dwarf to his, pulling him along with me, my limp much more prominent than before.

"Hurry, Kili," I said, looking over my shoulder. My eyes widened at the sight of Beorn—as a bear—charging through the undergrowth, no more than half a mile behind us. "Let's go!" I yelled, pulling him forward and running with renewed strength. For the first time in the entire journey with the company I was physically able to run without any serious injuries or impediments, and I was unable to do so because of my promise to protect the line of Durin. '_Also the_ _fact that you're in love with Thorin's nephew,' _a snide voice in my head said, '_that's a key factor in explaining why you're risking your life by not leaving him behind.'_

"Shut up," I panted, pulling Kili harder as we made our way across a wide stream.

"I didn't say anything," Kili grunted as I lost my footing, rolling my bad ankle on a loose stone. I cried out and would had fallen into the river had Kili not paused and pulled me back, unintentionally pulling me flush against his chest. I glanced up, catching the concerned and embarrassed look in his eye.

I pulled away, blushing. "Thank you," I said, regaining my footing and continuing on, lost in my thoughts.

-o-

'_Thank Seldarine he's tall for a dwarf_,' I thought as we continued to run side by side. He was keeping up with me astoundingly well… in fact, he seemed to be holding back. I tried bursting into a sprint, and he kept up easily, much to my relief. Chancing another glance back did nothing to boost my spirits—the distance between us and the bear had decreased to a quarter of a mile.

"What is it?" Kili asked, breathing heavily as we broke out of the woods and began flying across a golden field speckled with purple alfalfa and a few other scraggly, brown plants.

"Come on!" The wizard yelled, waving his staff around. I jumped over a trench, staggering slightly as pain flared up in my ankle upon landing. I gritted my teeth and continued on, my pain visible to the others' eyes by only a slight limp.

"What is what?" I asked, only slightly out of breath. I looked over at the handsome dwarf; his long, dark hair mostly pulled back from his face by a single silver clip; his dark eyes narrowed in concentration as he ran. Sweat ran down his face, and a vein stood out in his neck; his teeth were clenched against a cramp in his side.

"The bear—what is it?" he asked, throwing his arms in front of his face as we entered another forest, this one less dense than the first but thick enough that hopefully the bear would be impeded by its size and the closeness of the trees. I looked back and was relieved that I could not see the bear. I ran into someone and fell back into Kili's arms for the second time that day; I looked up into Dwalin's scowling face and stepped away from him, smiling nervously. I hadn't realized that the company had halted, and they stood close together, looking around for any sign of the bear or the orcs.

"Sorry," I said, looking around. Catching sight of Thorin and Fili, I felt partially relieved. At least they hadn't fallen behind.

Suddenly the bear's roar sounded again, much, _much _closer than before; it echoed around us, and Gandalf began running again, shouting for us to follow him. We needed no encouragement and began sprinting after him, fearful for our lives. Bombur stood, petrified, staring in the direction of the bear and I grabbed the first thing I could reach—his looped, braided beard—and pulled him along. "Come on!" I yelled, my voice barely able to be heard over the bear's continuous roar. The rotund dwarf ran next to me, surprisingly quick, and the brothers Fili and Kili ran in front of me. We continued down the wooded hill and leaped over a ditch at the bottom, coming in view of the house several hundred yards away.

"To the house!" the wizard yelled, as if he hadn't told us before that it was our only option. Bombur had run ahead of me and I had fallen behind, the pain in my ankle reaching an almost unbearable point. I yelled in frustration, forcing it to work, and I felt a hand on my elbow, pushing me forward. Startled, I looked up into the eyes of Thorin, who had been waiting at the back of the train of dwarves to assist any who fell behind.

He quickly assessed the damage and I saw a flash of guilt in his eyes—it was, after all, through defending him that I was wounded—and he spoke, pulling my arm around him shoulder. "Lean on me," he said. I nodded, in too much pain to argue.

"Run!" Gandalf yelled. The first of the company was yards away from the hedge surrounding the house, and Bombur raced ahead of every dwarf till he was the first in line, running faster even than Gandalf, who stopped at the gate to usher us all inside.

Bombur hit the door and bounced off as the next dwarves reached him; they began pounding at it, but it was unyielding. Not one noticed the latch above their heads. Thorin and I were the last to make it in, right behind Oin, and Gandalf ran up, yelling, "Open the door!"

"Quickly!" Thorin yelled, passing me to his nephews and pushing through the crowd, undoing the latch and pushing open the double doors. We burst through them, and the instant we all were in we turned and shut the doors—on the bear's muzzle.

The bear roared roared as the dwarves yelled, trying to close the remaining door. The muzzle was stuck between the closed door and the open one, and the only options were to allow the bear into the house—not really an option—or get the door shut, which didn't seem to be working. Something that didn't help to calm my frayed nerves was that Kili was closest to the bear's teeth, each one of which was as long as my knives. I glanced back to the wizard—who wasn't helping and was standing in the middle of the room, smirking— and Bilbo, who had drawn his elvish sword and was pointing it at the bear. Right as I glanced back at Kili, the bear moved to clamp his jaws down on his arm. With a yell, I tackled him to the ground as the bear's teeth snapped together with a resounding _click_, and he looked over at me with wide eyes.

"You saved me," he whispered, looking up into my eyes. I was on his chest, and he lay on the ground under me, and no one seemed to notice; they were to busy fighting Beorn. With roars to match that of the bear's, the dwarves managed to shut the door, sliding a thick plank of wood into its metal latches to hold the doors closed.

As soon as they were safe, the dwarves breathed sighs of relief and leaned against the wood, breathing heavily. Fili and Thorin helped Kili and I to our feet, Fili murmuring thanks as I leaned heavily on his shoulders. Ori turned around to look at the wizard who stood with his staff pointed at the door, a dazed and guarded look on his face. "What is that?"

Gandalf looked down at the dwarf, though he did not lower his staff. "That is our host." I stood in between Fili, who had taken up the task of keeping me from falling over, and Kili. Both turned around to stare incredulously at Gandalf, and the rest of the dwarves did the same. I was the only one in the room, save Gandalf, who knew the identity of our host, and yet even I was more than a little bit irritated at behind forced to run several miles on an injured ankle while being chased by a giant bear. "His name is Beorn," he said, looking around at the dumbfounded hobbit and dwarves surrounding him. "And he is a Skin-changer." He turned and strode away past Oin, who pulled his ear trumpet away and observed it carefully as if it were broken. It was—a goblin had crushed it in Goblin Town—but he still heard the wizard correctly. "Sometimes he's a huge black bear," he continued, moving past us through his house and past several large animals residing comfortably inside, "Sometimes he's a great, strong man. The bear is unpredictable, but the man can be reasoned with," Gandalf explained as the dwarves spread out, looking around. "However," the wizard warned, "He is not over fond of dwarves."

I had stayed near the doors with Fili and Kili, and I looked over as Ori pressed his ear against the door, listening for any sounds of the bear. "He's leavin'," he said, eyes wide.

His brother Dori pulled him away. "Come away from there," he scolded, keeping a firm grip on his arm as if his brother might be sucked through the door if he let go. "It's not natural, none of it! It's obvious: he's under some dark spell," he said, his voice low and disgusted.

_'And this is why he doesn't like dwarves,' _I thought, hopping on one foot to try and wake up my right leg, which had fallen asleep. The brothers gave me questioning looks. "I can't feel my leg," I explained, closing my mouth as Gandalf stormed over, looking angry.

"Don't be a fool," he growled, looking down at Dori. "He's under no enchantment but his own." He turned around and looked us over, forgetting his anger for the moment. "Right, now, get some sleep, all of you. You'll be safe here tonight… I hope." I glared at the wizard as several dwarves looked around nervously as if expecting the bear to come barreling through a wall. "Oin, if you could help the princess with her ankle, I would be much obliged, she seems to have injured it again."

I flushed but nodded gratefully to Fili as he helped lower me onto a pile of hay, only which he spread my blanket. "Thank you," I said as he straightened again, moving out of the way of the healer, who was muttering something about me having more injuries than all the other dwarves combined. Because of his bad hearing, I doubt he thought I could hear, but I still blushed, embarrassed.

Fili smiled minutely at his words and nodded his head. "Feel better, princess," he said, straightening up. Before he left, however, he bent down once more so his mouth was next to my ear. "Thank you, princess, for saving my brother's life."

I nodded, a lump in my throat, and turned back to Oin, who was instructing me to take off my boot. Fili stood and strode away to where his uncle stood, watching me. The exchanged words quietly, and after a minute they both disappeared into a back room. I nodded at the healer and began unlacing my left boot as Kili came over and sat down next to me. He glanced at Oin, decided that he couldn't hear him, and leaned into me, frowning. "Why do you keep saving me?" he asked, his brown eyes curious and searching.

"I'm sorry?" I asked, giving my boot a tug and hissing with pain. I hadn't realized that I hadn't undone the laces all the way and only succeeded in injuring myself further.

"Here, allow me," he said, gently undoing the knots in the laces and sliding the shoe off. For the first time I became aware of the smell of sweaty feet, and I felt somewhat embarrassed, though I wasn't sure why I was so uncomfortable. I slid my sock off, avoiding his gaze as I winced at the purple, black, and blue bruising surrounding my swollen ankle.

Kili winced. "You were sprinting on that?" he asked, looking pained. I nodded. "And you were pulling me along with you," he said, looking guilty and sad.

I started, realizing what he was getting at. "Oh, Kili, no," I said, placing my hand on top of his. "This was not your fault; it would've happened whether I helped you or not."

"But I tripped you," he said, his sad face resembling that of a puppy's. "When I fell, you tripped over me…" I thought back to that incident and winced; he was right. He saw the realization in my face, and his fell. "I'm so sorry—"

"Kili, you saved me," I said, squeezing his hand. "I would've fallen into the creek when I twisted my ankle again, and if you weren't there, Beorn would've killed me. You saved me, you didn't put me in danger." I yelped as Oin pressed hard on a certain point right above my heel, but I missed the scalding look Kili sent his way.

The old healer put his hearing trumpet to his ear. "It's broken," he said, looking over at me.

My mouth fell open. "I'm sorry?" I asked, not believing my ears.

"I'm the one with bad hearing, princess," he scolded. "I said that your ankle is broken. It's a fracture at worst, but you should still stay off it while we're here."

"At best?" I tried, hoping for something a bit less permanent.

"A severe sprain, same instructions. I'll wrap it for you, and you should keep it elevated. Once I'm done, I'll give you something for sleep. I know you elves don't sleep often, but—"

"No!" I yelped, drawing attention from several of the dwarves nearby. "Please," I said, lowering my voice and shaking slightly. I pulled my arms around myself, suddenly cold. "I can not sleep… Is there any way you could give me something different?"

I stopped speaking as my ankle gave a particularly painful throb, and Oin looked thoughtful. "My stores are running somewhat low when it comes to pain relievers… I'm afraid I have to save the non-sleep inducing medicine for injuries that happen during, say, a run like today. Or an injury that occurs when if the subject goes to sleep, he won't wake up. I'm afraid your options are only to take the medication and go to sleep or risk it becoming infected by not taking any medication at all." I bit my lip, wanting to say that I would risk the infection, but Oin turned to Kili before I could say anything. "Why are you here?" he asked. "Shouldn't you be with your brother?"

Kili started and turned slightly red but regained his composure quickly. "I actually was hoping that I could learn to wrap an injury, in case something happens where more than one of us gets injured, I could help."

Oin nodded, pleased. "Alright. I need to make a paste out of this herb Aeyera called Athelas. Others call it Kingsfoil, but whatever it is, I've never quite need anything like it. It had certain healing properties that only elves, from what I've seen, can access. If you could get some of that boiling water from over there, that'd be perfect."

Kili nodded and get to his feet, shaking his legs to regain feeling in them. "I'll be right back," he said to me, taking the pot Oin offered him.

The elder dwarf scoffed. "You're walking across the room, not going off to war, laddie," he said with a gruff laugh. "Get on with it, we'll be fine without you for a few minutes."

He flushed and all but ran into the next room, and I couldn't help but feel bad for him. "Why did you say that?" I asked as Oin unrolled my store of wrappings for my ankle; Oin had given it to me after my last injury in case it happened again so we wouldn't get into his private stores to quickly. Then again, this was a part of his private stores, so I wasn't sure what the point was.

"He was taking too long, lass," he said, pulling out the pouch of Athelas I had given him and handing it to me, knowing that only I could access its healing properties. Kili came back into the room holding the pot of hot water and avoiding my eyes. He set down the pot and sat back, watching to see what I would do and keeping his eyes glued to my hands. Oin, knowing that I preferred to work alone, turned so his back faced me.

I took the Athelas and pressed a handful of the fresher plant in the water, crushing it in my fist. A fresh, sharp smell drifted out of the pot and mingled with the scent of hay and clean animals, and I began singing softly in elvish murmuring a spell my mother had taught me when I was very small. "_Ambar aire anar nulla, urwa wilma kelva tulka,_" I sang softly, closing my eyes and pressing the paste on my ankle. I clenched my teeth as the bone moved, and I continued, gasping. "_Ambar aire anar nulla urwa: nu wilma kelva tulka assare._"

The pain faded considerably and I lay back, exhausted. I glanced back at my ankle to see that the bruises had faded to green, yellow, and purple; the worst had gone. Kili tapped Oin's shoulder to let him know I was done, and his eyes widened at the sight of my ankle, which was considerably smaller than it had been several minutes before. I rested my head back as Oin began instructing Kili on how to wrap an injured ankle, explaining that each injury was different and therefore had to be treated differently. Thankfully, because I had healed the bone, I didn't need a splint, though, as Oin said, I still needed to be wrapped up tight. "Even elves feel pain, and my job is to fix them up so they don't," Oin said, handing the strips of cloth to Kili after soaking them in the hot water. Kili slowly began to wrap my foot and ankle; normally I drifted into the elvish kind of dreaming, but I was unable to do so because of the sparks of electricity travelling up my spine at his touch. I looked up as he finished and Oin stood, walking over to where his brother Gloin sat.

Kili held in his hand several herbs which I had a feeling would make me go to sleep. I looked up at his eyes quickly, shaking my head. "No, Kili, I can't—"

He held up his hands, "I'm not going to make you do anything, Aeyera. You need to get better, and taking medicine that would help you to sleep would be best."

"You don't understand," I said softly, closing my eyes. "I _can't _sleep. I seriously can not sleep anymore."

"Then help me understand," Kili said, sitting back and crossing his legs. "Tell me why you can't sleep anymore." He paused for a minute and looked over at the room Thorin and Fili had disappeared into. "It's nightmares, isn't it?"

I looked up at him but didn't answer. I couldn't.

He shook his head. "If you can't tell me why you're having nightmares," he said carefully, "Can you tell me why you keep saving my life?"

I froze, chills travelling down my spine. "What are you talking about?" I whispered, my voice catching.

He scooted closer until we both sat on my blanket, side by side against the pile of hay. "You've saved my life at least twice now. First in the goblin tunnels, you took a flogging for me. Then you jumped in front of Azog the Defiler to protect Uncle… you nearly died, Aeyera. Then today, you dragged me along with you, you broke your ankle again when I tripped you, and you tackled me out of the way when that bear thing nearly bit off my arm. Even before that," he said softly, watching the sunlight fade into moonlight through a skylight. "When we got separated on the cliff, it took Fili all his strength to keep you from jumping off the ridge after me, even though he was about to jump after me himself." I stayed silent and stared at the floor. My throat was choked up, and I pressed my hand to my mouth, trying to keep from crying. Kili placed his hand hesitantly on my back, trying to keep from hurting me. I turned my head, noticing that he was avoiding my hair like the plague. I pulled it to the side so he wouldn't have to touch it, and he smiled a bit and held out the hand holding the medicine. "You've saved me," he whispered. "It's my turn to save you."

I looked up at him questioningly as a tear fell down my cheek. I swiped it away angrily and look over at the young dwarf, confused. "What? How?"

"If you take this," he said, "I'll stay with you. I'll keep the nightmares away. I promise."

"How will you keep them away?" I asked, my voice a whisper.

"If I see you having them," he said, "I'll wake you up. I promise."

"Even if I take them," I said, looking around at the others who had fallen asleep, "it would take a miracle for me to actually sleep."

He shrugged. "You could talk yourself to sleep," he suggested. "Tell me why you're having the nightmares. Maybe if you face it, you won't have them anymore."

I shook my head. "I doubt that will help."

He looked around for help before turning back to me. "Tell me about your home," he said gently. "Your family."

I sighed, resigned. "Alright. Fine, I'll talk to you about my family, not my past."

He nodded, smiling, and mixed the herbs into a cup of water before handing it to me. I accepted it with shaking hands and held it for a moment, unmoving. He covered my hands with his and moved in front of me, his dark eyes staying on my face. "Do you trust me?" he asked. I nodded, and he smiled. He helped me tilt the cup back, and I drank the mixture quickly before my body could convince me not to. I gagged as soon as it was down, and he covered my mouth to keep me from throwing it up. As soon as it was down, I sat back, shaking. "Tell me about your family," he said softly.

I snuggled back into the hay as Kili lay back next to me. He removed my bow, quiver, and knives as well as his own weapons and set them aside at our feet. "My mother died when I was very young," I said softly. "She died defending my brother and I when a pack of orcs attacked us. We were riding along one of the elvish paths through the Greenwood one hundred and eighty-five years ago; I was ten years old. She rode with me on her horse Athelasar. My brother rode beside us on his own horse I had named Scarlet, because of her mane." Kili lay facing me, and a strip of moonlight lit up his eyes, which were watching my lips as I spoke. My eyes were getting heavy, but I fought the sedative, not ready to sleep yet. "My mother had her weapons with her, but my brother did not, and I was much too young to know how to use any weapons. My father was not with us like he normally was, he… he was at the palace, one of the ambassadors from Erebor was visiting at the time. This was back when h-he actually loved me… a band of orcs attacked us from behind, and my brother couldn't do anything to help her. She threw me to him and yelled at him to take me and run. Right as he caught me, an orc aimed for me and let loose an arrow. She jumped in front of it, off her horse, and it hit her in the chest. My brother blew his horn, and I was screaming her name over and over, and he took me and rode away as the other warriors came in. It was too late," I whispered, my eyes drooping shut as I cried. I couldn't tell, but Kili was crying as well, and his left hand was covering his mouth as his right held mine. "I was screaming, crying for her over and over again, but I couldn't reach her. I tried to fight my brother, but he was too strong. He was crying with me, and when we reached the palace, he passed me to Tauriel and ran to my father." My head fell down against the crook of my elbow as sleep began to take me. My eyes closed. "He never loved me after that," I murmured. "He never cared that I left, and if he had known I was being tortured, he wouldn't have cared. Only Legolas cared, and I can't tell him."

"You were tortured?" Kili yelped, squeezing my hand. "When?"

But I had already passed into the darkness, allowing myself to sleep for the first time in centuries.


	2. Chapter 2

_Torture._

_ Agony._

_ Burning._

_ Darkness._

_ Smoke._

_ 'I've been here for twenty years… I cannot stand it here anymore. Every day I am tortured, every night I am healed. When I am awake I live a nightmare, when I sleep I am plagued with visions of my family and people being slaughtered. _

_ 'Every night I try desperately to run over a muddy, barren field towards my brother, who lies dying at the foot of a large, black gate. Every night I look down to see why I cannot run to his side, only to see that the mud is actually blood and flesh—every night I look down into the bloodless faces of the Valar and am able to do nothing. _

_ 'I cannot kill myself, and the enemy knows it. They place a dagger in my cell every night, knowing that if I succumb to the pain and use it, my soul be unable to find its way to the Halls of Mandos in Valinor. I will cease to be, but I cannot do it—I am strong; I will not give in. I will not risk seeing my mother again simply because I cannot withstand pain which I know I will someday be saved from.'_

_ The pale orc laughs and lifts a whip that glows like fire. "Do you enjoy pain, elfling?" He asks, leering at me. He swings the whip, and I scream as it wraps around me, burning furrows into my arm. "You must: if you did not, you would have ended it by now." _

_ He jerks the whip away, leaving deep, blackened burns in my flesh. They are not so deep that I can see my bone, but I still writhe in agony, sobbing. I cry out and pull in vain at the chains holding my arms to the ceiling, unable to kick the orc away because of the shackles holding my ankles to the stone floor. He laughs and swings the whip again, making it wrap around my right upper arm and across both my shoulders. I arch my back, trying to escape. _

_ No matter how many times I am tortured, I will never not curl away from a whip, a branding iron, a knife. I know that I cannot be corrupted—not but a few elves could ever be or have ever been corrupted, and even those have fallen out of our memory—but oftentimes I wonder if I have been, if the continuous exposure to darkness and evil has changed me for the worst. _

_ I blink, bringing myself out of my thoughts. Darkness surrounds me both inside and out; the shadows of night are reflected by the shadows of madness at the edges of my mind._

_ After an eternity that was only a day, the pale orc unchains my wrist and ankles and slings me over his shoulder, each of his hands large enough to easily wrap itself around my waist and crush me. I cannot move; my wrists are shackled together as well as my ankles. He carries me to my cell and throws me to the ground, smiling gruesomely at my weak whimpers of protest. Unlike other nights, however, the shadow that would descend upon my cell did not immediately come, and I frown, glancing over at the knife in the corner, a plan forming in my mind. The pale orc frowns as well and steps into the cell, facing away from me. Taking a risk, I reach over, grab the knife in my fists, and lunge, hoping to plunge the blade into the orc's heart. _

_ However, the sound of my chains scraping against the floor alerts him, and he turns, backhanding me and sending me flying to the opposite wall. Pain explodes in my back as it makes contact with the chipped rock, and I crumple to the ground in pain, looking blearily over at the pale orc, who reaches down to pick up the knife I had dropped. He grins and kneels next to me, tracing my face with the dark blade._

_ "The Master will heal you tonight," he whispers in the common tongue, "so it won't matter when I do _this._" At the last word, he plunges the knife into my side up to the hilt, and I scream, curling in on myself as the world flashed white. _

_ He stands and turns, intent on leaving me in the cell, but before he can, the shadow appears at the door, weaker than before. _

_ It speaks in black speech, and I recognize few words in it. However, I do catch the words "Thror," "Moria," and "Durin". The orc grins and walks out as the shadow fades completely. _

_ I lie dazed and dying as Dol Guldur empties, all the orcs and goblins heading to Moria. I grip the handle of the knife, hoping to pull it out and use it to break my chains, but I am too weak. I remain motionless, my breathing becoming ragged, and darkness began to encroach on my vision._

_ Suddenly, the sound of footsteps reaches my ears, and I try to lift my head. '_These are different_,' I notice. I open my mouth and cough, tasting blood. "Help," I croak, choking on my blood. "Help!" I cough, louder. The footsteps come nearer as I fall back, crying. "Help me," I whisper, looking up at the enormous figure above me. _

_ It crouches down and lifts me up gently in its arms and I choke, a squelching sound issuing from my throat as he carries me out of the cell. "You are safe, little one," the man says, moving more quickly than before. "I am not going to hurt you." I begin to slip into the world of dreams, I must be, for the man's form shifts to that of a bear, and he begins to run, my prone form on his back with my arms around his neck. My wrists are still chained together, as were my ankles, but I am grateful because I cannot fall off. _

_ The world is completely encased in night, but still I can see—I can make out the shadows of trees and mountains even though there is no starlight. I can see the forms of wraiths, which drift towards me but back off when they see who—or what—carries me. _

_ Finally my eyes begin to drift shut and I slump over, praying to Eru and Seldarine that death will take me._

-o-

I was shaking badly, and my ears were ringing. I was in the place between sleep and wakefulness, and I could not remember anything past what I had just experienced in my dream.

'_Was it a dream?_' I thought, panicked, '_or am I still in Dol Guldur?!_'

A hand suddenly grabbed my shoulder, and I curled into a ball as the hand's owner began shaking me. "Aeyera!" Someone was shouting, "_Mahal, _princess, wake up! Please! Wake up!"

My eyes snapped open, and I screamed shrilly, throwing the hand off me and shoving the body away. The whole time I was shrieking, and my hands were clamped over my ears. The hands returned but they were gentle, much more gentle than before. One rested on my upper arm while the other traced circles between my shoulder blades.

Slowly my memory began returning, and the gap between the present and my time spent in the dungeons of Dol Guldur began to widen. As my memory proved that I was farther and farther from danger, I began to relax, and my screams turned to whimpers before disappearing entirely. Slowly my mind returned to the present, and I slumped against the floor as I thought about the past day's events, going over them quickly in my mind.

'_Tracking. Overhearing Fili and Kili's _private _conversation. Seeing the orc pack. Seeing Beorn. Running. Tripping over Kili. Kili catching me and preventing me from falling into the river. Thorin helping me as I became too weak to run. Tackling Kili to the ground. Kili and Oin wrapping my ankle after I used magic to heal it. Taking the sleeping drought. Telling Kili about my mother. Letting slip about my years in torture. Falling asleep for the first time in decades. Reliving my last day in Dol Guldur._'

After reviewing the events of the last twenty-four hours and assuring myself of my safety, I opened my eyes and felt a wave of relied sweep over me at the sight of Kili kneeling beside me. His hands stilled as my green eyes fluttered open, and he gave a small, relieved smile.

"What happened?" I whispered, not yet aware of the other dwarves behind him. "How did you wake me up?"

His dark eyes stood out in stark contrast against his white face, and they remained locked on mine as he spoke. "I-I drifted off sometime after you did," he said, sounding ashamed. His hand began moving in circles again, and I felt myself relax at his touch, feeling truly safe for the first time in longer than I could remember. "I felt something jerk, and I woke to see you having a fit, crying and whimpering and thrashing around as if you were being tortured. I grabbed your shoulder and tried to shake you awake, but you threw me off… I didn't realize how hard you could hit," he added, rubbing his bruised jaw. He continued on before I could apologize. "When you started screaming, I panicked, and that's when the others started waking up. Fili and Uncle ran in and helped keep the others back; they probably would've accidentally trampled you if they hadn't," he said thoughtfully, glancing at his brother gratefully. "While that was going on, I did the only this I could think of, rubbing your back, which seemed to calm you down. Fili and I used to do it when we were dwarflings to calm each other down when we had nightmares," he added quietly, so only I could hear. He looked wistful, and my heart ached as I thought back to the last ten years I spent in the Greenwood with my brother when we became so close.

_'I wonder what would've happened if Legolas hadn't told me about the dragon,'_ I thought briefly. I quickly banished the thought, unwilling to tempt myself with _what ifs_. "Thank you," I said softly. I still shook, scars throbbing with pain that reverberated up through the centuries to now, and I still fought the madness at the corners of my mind, but I knew I was safe—at least for now—so I relaxed.

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you—" Kili blurted, looking very upset. "I tried to wake you sooner, I really did, but I—"

"I know," I said softly, tired and sad. My heart was heavy, and my eyes were nearly as heavy as my heart. I twisted a strand of hair around into a thin, intricate braid, thinking.

"You don't have to go to sleep again," he said as most of the other dwarves took their leave, heading back to their nooks and crannies where they were before. I mushed myself up so we sat facing each other, my left leg stretched out in front of me. "You can just do… whatever it is elves do instead of sleeping and stick with that, I would never make you—"

"Kili," I said softly, reaching over and taking his hand. "You saved me… and I trust you to do so again, should another nightmare occur while I stay in this home."

The young prince, whose eyes had been glued to our intertwined hands, jerked his head up, brown eyes wide with panic. I couldn't help but wonder just how terrible my screams had been to make him this frightened for me. "What?! No, you can't—"

"I am sorry to interrupt," his uncle said, moving forward and kneeling next to our linked hands. As he glanced down at them, I quickly retracted my own, feeling my face heat up. Thankfully the house of Beorn was too dark for the king to see me blush, but there was enough light for me to see the concern and understanding in his face. "But I need to speak to you privately, if you are well."

I opened my mouth to speak but was interrupted by a yawn, and Thorin smiled as I blinked in surprise, trying to stay awake. The sleeping herbs had not yet worn off, and I could feel the effects as I struggled not to slump to the ground, asleep. "Now may not be the b-b-" I was interrupted by another yawn, and I frowned, "_best _time, my lord." I covered my mouth as another yawn escaped me, irritated. I never yawned. _Ever._

He nodded in understanding and glanced around at the others, several of whom still looked on with concern from their sleeping spots. After a moment, he bowed his head and stood. "We will speak when you wake," he said. Turning, he whispered something to Kili in Khuzdul, and I couldn't catch it. He straightened and glanced over his shoulder at me, his face softening. "Sleep well, princess," he said, turning and heading back to sleep, glaring at the others in an attempt to get them to do the same.

Kili turned back to me as I snuggled down, ready for the first time in centuries to sleep. A sense of peace stole over me as Kili lay down beside me, both of us lying on my blanket in the hay. After covering us both with his blanket, he turned to me, propped up on one elbow. "Are you sure about this?" he whispered, clearly worried about me. I nodded. "Do… do want to talk about it?" he asked hesitantly. "About your nightmare?"

"Memory," I corrected softly. "It was a memory." This was the first time I had divulged my past to anyone; the rangers never asked about my past, knowing it was not one I wished to remember. They had, however, visited Beorn's house and introduced him to the Athelas plant, Arathorn being the one who healed my Morgul wound. Beorn figured my past out on his own, having found me and kept me alive until the rangers found me. Kili remained silent, and I continued, feeling that I was able at least to trust him, if no one else. "After my brother and I split at the edge of the Greenwood, I made my way North, hoping to meet with dwarves making their way to the Blue Mountains from Erebor. I never made it. Several weeks after the dragon attacked the Lonely Mountain, I was—I was captured and brought to the dungeons of Dol Guldur. You asked once why Azog the Defiler wanted me," I said, raising my eyes to meet his. "It is because I escaped. He used to torture me…" I closed my eyes against the pain reflected in Kili's own, feeling a lump form in my throat. "I was a prisoner for twenty years until the orcs began to take notice of the Dwarf kingdom of Dwarrowdelf. At that point, the pale orc stabbed me with a Morgul blade and left the dungeons with the rest of the orcs there."

Kili looked confused, his dark eyes churning with so many emotions that I couldn't keep track. "But why would he leave? You said you escaped, but how—"

I shuddered and pulled the blanket tighter around me. "There is a shadow that lies upon those ruins," I said, my voice low. "It would put me to sleep every night and heal me, plaguing me with nightmares all the while. The shadow did not come on that night; I do not know why. It was weaker, when I saw it, but it neither harmed nor healed me. Hours later, I was passing out of consciousness and into death, when Beorn found me. He brought me back to his home and did his best to heal me, but could do nothing about my Morgul wound. Miraculously, a group of ranges, the Dúnedain, were passing through his lands. When they discovered that a wounded elf was being sheltered by him, the leader of their company, Arathorn, son of Arador, healed me with the Athelas plant, saving me from death and preventing me from becoming a wraith."

Kili interrupted again, face paler than before. "I thought only elves could access the plant's power," he said. "How did a ranger do so?"

"The Dúnedain are men descended from the Númenóreans who retreated to Middle Earth in the Second Age," I said. "They are descended from Elf-friends, and Arathorn was one of the few who remains one."

"Elf-friends?" he repeated, frowning.

"Yes. Few are given the title, for few are friends to elves and do a great service to them," I replied. "Arathorn, a dear friend of mine, passed on nearly ten years ago, but never received such a title."

"Have I met any dwarves who have?" he asked, excited.

"I do not know," I answered slowly. "The two that I remember and who are most notable are Elrond Half-elven, who has lived since nearly the beginning of the First Age; and Elendil, the High King of Gondor in the Second Age, who lived to be three hundred and twenty-two."

"Oh," he replied, slightly put out. "What happened after Arathorn healed you?" he asked, looking over at me.

I continued. "After the Morgul knife was removed and the splinter taken out of my chest, it took nearly a year for me to recover. See, a Morgul blade, once it tastes flesh, allows its point to splinter into the body and dig its way to the victim's heart. When it reaches it, the victim becomes a wraith." I looked down at my hand, tracing the scar on the back of it. "Elves were created to be incorruptible," I said softly. "Some were twisted and mutilated in the very beginning by Morgoth and transformed into orcs, but this was before we were awakened by Eru. I have often wondered if I could have been corrupted; elves were not created to be consumed by darkness." I returned to myself and continued the story, closing my eyes. "Several rangers stayed near to Beorn's dwelling place, watching for danger in order that they might protect me, but nothing ever came. That is, until the anniversary of my escape. I became sick; very sick, and began drifting into the realm that wraiths dwell in. From what I have heard, Arathorn was called to my side and healed me, preventing me from fading completely. Once I was healed, I taught myself to fight and run again, and I travelled with the rangers until two years ago, when I discovered word of my companion Arathorn's death." My face fell as I remembered finding his group of rangers and not seeing him with them, and I fought back tears as I recalled the grief on their faces. "The Dúnedain are split into several groups, each keeping watch over a certain part of Middle Earth. While they still remain part of a... tribe, you could say, they are a solitary people and often travel alone, meeting up on occasion to discus any evil that seems to be growing. This was one of these times. Arathorn's tribe was keeping watch over Gondor when I discovered them; they had been heading East since last I saw them. Both I and the rangers I travelled with kept watch over the Iron Hills and Blue Mountains, protecting the dwarves from orc raids. We went to meet with the men of Gondor, for we had received word of a shadow to the East, and that is when I found out about his death.

"Many of the rangers either knew me or knew of me from their kin, and they knew the grief of elves runs deep. I still recall the pain and guilt on their faces; many of them fought by Arathorn's side and were grieved that I had not heard of his death. I do not know how word of his death escaped me for so long, but… I-I lost the will to remain in Middle Earth.

"I received word of my friend's death in Ithilien, and I travelled for a year until I reached the edge of the Shire, which is closest to the Grey Havens where the elves sail from Middle Earth to the Undying Lands. I lost the will to remain in this world… until Mithrandir approached me at the border of the Shire with word of a quest to reclaim a mountain, and slay a dragon. I accepted, and here I am as one of your companions, nearly a year later, going back to the place that nearly cost me my life."

I looked up at the young dwarf prince, who stared down at me with eyes that were filled with sorrow. He looked both enthralled at and grieved by my words, but he still spoke, his voice steady. "How is it that one can be so strong as to endure all this pain?" he whispered.

I closed my eyes. "I am not strong," I said softly, closing my heavy eyes as a tear rolled down my cheek.

I felt his hand hesitantly touch my cheek, his thumb gently brushing the tear away. I opened my eyes and looked into his, confused and lost. "You're stronger than you know," he said softly.

"I tried to run away," I said. "I was on my way to the Grey Havens when Gandalf found me."

"What are the Grey Havens?" he asked. "You mentioned them many a time, but I haven't heard of them before."

"You wouldn't have," I replied softly. "Most of the elves who pass out of Middle Earth have lived a full life, many of them having lived thousands of years. Many elves I met on their way to the Sea were veterans of the War of the Last Alliance, when the dark lord, Sauron, was destroyed by Isildur, son of Elendil. Many of these elves were over five thousand years old," I murmured.

His eyes were wide. "And you?" he asked.

"Others leave because they have no purpose," I told him sadly, a feeling of shame settling over me. "I am less than two hundred years of age: I was conceived twenty-seven years before the dragon attacked Erebor."

"And you were going to leave Middle Earth?" Kili asked, clearly not understanding. "But you are younger even than my uncle…" he trailed off, finally piecing together the whole story. "Oh," he whispered.

"Oh," I repeated sadly. "I am a coward, _mellon_," I told him, resting my head in the crook of my arm. "I have tried my whole life to run away."

"You're not running now," he pointed out gently.

A smile graced my lips as sleep overtook me again. I felt as if a burden had been lifted from my shoulders: telling Kili my story had freed me, somehow… I wasn't alone anymore, someone else knew my past and could help me. I rolled over so my back faced the prince, pulling his blanket to my chin.

"Thank you," he said softly, his voice nervous.

I turned my head slowly, catching a glimpse of him over my shoulder. "For what?" I asked, surprised.

"For trusting me," he replied. I smiled and turned over, allowing sleep to overtake me. And somehow… I knew I would not be plagued by nightmares again: at least not of my past.


	3. Chapter 3

Kili's POV

The dwarf prince watched as the young elven princess turned over so that her back faced him, and he sighed quietly as her breathing evened out. It both amazed and grieved him that someone so fair and young, especially for an elf, would have to go through so much pain.

'It is so strange that most dwarves, myself included,' he thought guiltily, 'usually think of the elves as a pure, cold, untouchable race who ignores the call of the weak and feasts in their halls while others starve outside their gates. At least,' he thought, frowning, 'that is how Uncle always put it when he would speak to my brother and I of the destruction of Erebor and the greediness of the elves. But this elf… she's different. She tried to help us when no one else would, and she's saved me more times than I can count.'

"Could it be possible that we've misunderstood your people all this time?" Kili asked aloud, staring at the princess' dark curls.

An unexpected voice spoke up from behind him, making him jump. "It is very possible, Kili, son of Dis. However, do not be fooled by our lady's kind heart. Her kin—the Wood Elves, in particular—are a suspicious and dangerous folk, less wise than their kin in the West." The started dwarf rolled over to see the Grey Wizard standing next to them, watching the pair with deep sadness in his grey-blue eyes.

"How long have you been standing there?" Kili managed, afraid that the wizard had heard Aeyera's confession, and that she would think that he—Kili—had betrayed her trust.

"Do not worry, Kili," he said gently. "For although I heard her story, I turned my attention elsewhere once the two of you entered a more private area of conversation. You still have her trust," he said, smiling down at the sleeping girl, "and rightly so. Am I to assume that she also has yours?" he asked, raising one large, fuzzy eyebrow.

Kili nodded quickly. "Yes," he said, his voice catching.

The wizard bent down, watching the princess to make sure she was really asleep. Deciding that she was oblivious to him words, he spoke to the prince, saying, "You should know, Prince, that the trust of Elves is not lightly given. Especially for those who have been through this kind of pain. I am older than the creation of Middle Earth," he said, "and yet I have known very few Elves who trust any with their story when they have gone through this kind of pain. Fewer still who would entrust their life to a dwarf."

"Why do our races not get along?" Kili asked. He had never known what the true reason was; he had assumed that the anger between the Dwarves and the Elves came from the siege of Erebor, yet now he knew this was not the case.

Gandalf settles himself in a chair, leaning his staff against the wall. "In the First Age," he began, "the Elven king Thingol, of whom Lord Elrond is a descendant, asked the Dwarves of Belegost to forge the Nauglamír. This was a great and precious necklace which the Elven king had set with one of the Silmaril, making the necklace the fairest of all objects in Arda." The wizard sighed, staring off into an age old beyond recounting. Kili listened, enthralled. Never had he heard this tale before. "However, the Dwarves who forged the jewel became envious and greedy; once finished with the necklace, they demanded that in exchange for their work, they be paid with the Nauglamír. They would accept no other form of payment. The Elven king, who would not part with his treasure, replied in an incompetent manner, saying that he would not part with the gem. In their anger, the dwarves slew him, taking the Nauglamír back to their lands with a very different tale." Kili thought back to the scrolls he and his brother were forced to read as dwarflings; of the wicked elves who had withheld promised payment and slaughtered the dwarves in their care. Only now did he see that perhaps the history he had learned was wrong. "The two races went back and forth, the Elves seeking vengeance on those who had killed their king, and the Dwarves trying to take the Nauglamír for themselves. In the end," Gandalf said sadly, tired, "many centuries later, it was Elwing the White, mother of Elrond of Rivendell, who threw herself into the sea to escape the Sons of Fëanor, who tried to take the jewel from her. As she fell, she was transformed into a great white bird and flew to her husband Eärendil. However, the Nauglamír was lost, and had been for many an age."

Kili was stunned. "B-but," he stammered, "how would you know all of this?"

"Because I was there!" He said, as if genuinely shocked that the dwarf hadn't guessed it sooner. "I am older than the beginning of Middle Earth, as I previously mentioned. I have seen nations and peoples older and more mysterious than any that still walk on this earth perish by fire and water and blade. I have seen entire forests grow and wither, and I have seen the mountains being raised from the sea. I am very old, master dwarf. And yet, once again, it has never been heard of that an elf—a princess, no less—would trust a dwarf prince, one whose Uncle is a bitter rival of her father's."

"She's not like other elves," the prince said softly.

"That I know," the wizard said, amused. "Most elves would not come within a league of a dwarf, and yet there is one lying not a foot from you."

"Why me?" Kili asked, confused and tired. "What makes me so special?"

The wizard looked briefly conflicted but leaned forward all the same. The prince copied his movements, sitting up carefully to avoid waking Aeyera. "A month ago," the wizard said carefully, "immediately before your company was attacked by Azog the Defiler, I confronted our princess. I had intended to do it sooner, but due to… unforeseen circumstances, including her injuries and my being delayed in Rivendell, as well as other delays that stretched back even before those, I was unable to do so. While we were being chased by the Wargs and Orcs, I asked her a question, not knowing that she had already answered it nearly two centuries before." The wizard paused, looking down at the she-elf lying asleep on the ground.

"And what… what was the question?" Kili asked, incredibly interested.

The wizard suddenly stood. "Let us not speak here," he said. "Come with me."

Kili quickly stood and followed after the wizard, who led him to a fenced in courtyard outside. It must have been only nine or ten at night, and the moon was bright, bathing everything in silvery light. The stars were alight, and Kili glanced up at Durin's Crown, one of the Dwarves' most prized constellations. The wizard gestured towards a fountain in the center of the yard, which had several wooden benches placed around it.

The wizard sat, arranging his robes so that they wee not caught on any stray splinters, and Kili sat on a bench opposite him. "Please continue," he said.

"I asked her to protect the Line of Durin, at all cost," Gandalf said sadly, ignoring the shocked look on Kili's face. "Of course, I was unaware of how far her actions would go—had already gone, rather. I also was unaware of a… new development."

The dwarf frowned. "Development?" he repeated.

The sorcerer nodded, straying from the topic. "Yes. You see, elves only love once in their life, and they are similar to dwarf women who, if they are unloved by the one they wish to be with, will chose to be alone. Princess Aeyera is one of seven elves to be born in the last two centuries, and she is the youngest of all of them. Each of the other six has found their spouse for life—of the seven, four were female, and three were male. Elves generally take a spouse between the ages of fifty and one hundred; others whose to remain unmarried. For the princess, however, I fear that there are no others."

"What does this have to do with the princess wanting to protect us?" Kili asked, raising an eyebrow. He rubbed his hands together unconsciously; although it was summer, it was quite chilly, especially this far to the East, where winter comes early. It was not as if he was uninterested about Aeyera's story, on the contrary: he very much wished to understand the elf-maid better. This, though, was not how he wanted to find out.

The wizard continued as if uninterrupted. "She believes that she was unable to find love because of her torture and physical appearance—which has changed as of late, if you've noticed." Kili nodded in agreement. She did not look to be the same young girl she had been at the beginning; she looked to be nearly his own age now, although her height had not grown. "And thus she has been unhindered in her duties for the last century or so. Until now."

Kili looked up, conflicted. "Please stop," The young dwarf asked, gripping his right hand in his left. "I don't want to hear this."

"Why?" the wizard answered, raising a bushy eyebrow.

"Because… because if she wanted me to know this, she'd have told me herself," he answered, voice strong.

The wizard smiled as crickets and bullfrogs began to sing again. _'They must have been frightened by us and kept quiet,'_ Kili thought.

"You are quite remarkable, for a dwarf," he said, smiling happily as he patted the dwarf's shoulder affectionately. "I am happy to say that Aeyera was right in trusting you: you are quite an honorable young prince. I am, however, going to explain her vow to Durin's line, simply so you know what is going on. I believe that both your uncle and brother have already guessed her intentions and are both confused and grateful to her. However, I am now beginning to understand the gravity of what I asked of her and am regretting bringing her on this quest at all."

"What? I don't understand, you're an age-old wizard, you've lived on this earth since the beginning, how have you not seen every scenario play out a hundred times in history?" Kili asked, confused and… angry, for some reason. A feeling of protectiveness bubbled up inside him, much like the protectiveness he had for his brother, except this was stronger, and circled around the princess.

"I did not understand," the wizard snapped, growing taller as the creatures of the night fell silent, "because no elf has ever before fallen in love with a dwarf."

Kili froze, mind whirling. _'She's in love with a dwarf? Who?' _He kept his mouth shut, however, listening.

Gandalf sighed and hunched over, leaning heavily on his staff. "She already felt the deaths of your kin on her shoulders because she was unable to help you the day Erebor was lost; she felt that she had to make up for her failure by helping your company now. However, she seems to have fallen in love with one of you, and love… love is a very dangerous and powerful thing."

Gandalf continued. "I have seen kingdoms fall because of it, and the princess knows this. That is why she has never mentioned it before, why she is so quiet all the time: she's focusing all her energy on protecting you and your kin rather than being distracted by love. When I asked her to protect you, I was unaware that she had already made a promise to do so. I fear now that what I have done may cost Aeyera her life."

"How do you mean?" the dwarf asked, suddenly afraid. _'Elves cannot die, can they? They all sail away when they've had enough, that's what Aeyera said…'_

"Our elf is somewhat… mentally unbalanced. No, she is not insane," the wizard added as Kili started, "but there is a shadow of madness growing in her mind. This is due to the torture she endured in the dungeons of Dol Guldur, and had I been aware of it, I would have never asked her to come. I did not know of the horrors that haunted her until this very night when she spoke of them to you, and now I see that she is in very, very grave danger."

"How so?" Kili asked, mouth dry.

"She, if what she says is true, has been stabbed by a Morgul Blade," the wizard said.

Kili though back to his conversation with Lord Elrond in Rivendell and nodded. "Elrond said the same while we were in Rivendell," he said softly. "And Aeyera spoke of it to me just now."

Gandalf closed his eyes, looking more tired than anyone the dwarf had ever seen. "Then my fears are confirmed. The closer we come to the fortress of Dol Guldur, the more the wound will effect her until she either retreats to the Undying Lands or passes on, where then her soul will find its way to the Halls of Mandos in Valinor."

"But… she said that Arathorn, the ranger, had healed her," Kili pressed. "Until a year later, when she began passing into another world. What does that mean?"

Gandalf looked greatly troubled, and he remained in silence for several minutes before speaking again. "It means that if she dies, her blood will be on my hands. I have know her since before Erebor fell," the wizard said tiredly, looking down at his hands as if already seeing them coated in scarlet. "She would not leave her friends to carry on alone. That is why I must ask something of _you._"

Kili nodded. "Anything," he said, voice breaking. He hadn't realized before just how much he cared about her.

"Protect her," Gandalf said, watching the dwarf with his silvery eyes. "She already works to protect your kin from the evil at work in this world. You must work to protect her soul from the darkness at work in her mind."

Kili was stunned. "How can I do that?" he asked.

"Be a light," the wizard smiled. The two sat in silence, bathed in starlight as the night wore on. Nearly an hour later, a strange grunting, panting sound came from far outside the gate, and Kili turned his ear towards it, listening. "Something's there," he whispered.

"I know," the wizard said gravely. "It's Beorn. Go inside," he said to the stunned dwarf. "Make sure that our elf doesn't have anymore nightmares tonight. Do not worry," he added as Kili leapt to his feet, "she has had no more thus far."

Kili nodded and went quickly inside, working hard to keep from waking any of the others. As he lay down next to Aeyera, he gazed down at her, sighing. "I will protect you, princess," he whispered. "I promise."

-o-

_I looked around, searching desperately for the one I loved. An elven archer rushed by, and I grabbed his arm, hard. "Where are the princes of Erebor?" I growled, keeping his arm in a vice-like grip. _

_ The archer, whom I now recognized as the stable boy who worked at the palace when I was a child, bowed his head, awed by my appearance. "Princess, I do not know where they are—" he started, swinging his bow and hitting a oncoming orc in the side of the neck, breaking its spine and killing it instantly. _

_ "Are they alive?" I yelled, throwing a knife at another goblin and burying it up to the hilt in its neck. "Tell me they're alive!"_

_ "Aeyera!" I turned to see my brother and released the archer, running to him. He grasped my arms and pulled me to the ground as a goblin three times my size swung a battle-axe, which would have cut me in half had my brother not interfered. Legolas quickly ended the foul creature, fire burning in his eyes. "What are you doing here?" he asked, frightened for me. "You said you would stay with—" _

_ "Something came up," I snapped, throwing another knife at large Warg about to lunge at Dwalin. He nodded, and I rushed to his side, fighting back-to-back with him as Legolas moved on, searching for Tauriel amidst the chaos. "Dwalin, where are the princes?" I asked desperately. "Where are Kili and Fili?"_

_ "With Thorin!" he bellowed, swinging his axe with deadly precision. "They're with the king!"_

_ I looked around desperately, searching the battlefield for any sign of the one I loved, and finally I saw him and his brother standing back to back in front of Thorin, one armed with a bow and the other with a sword. With a yell, I began fighting my way through the carnage, struggling to reach them. _

_ A memory was fighting to resurface; a vision I had once had, but I wouldn't think about it. '_Not now,_' I thought desperately. '_Not here_.'_

_ Yards away from the trio, I caught a movement from the corner of my eye, and without hesitation, I leaped forward, catching the point of the arrow on my bow. I cursed and looked down at the ruined weapon before swinging it onto my back and drawing my long knives. Fili, thankfully, had taught me to carry and use throwing knives in addition to my fighting ones, something that I was incredibly grateful for as I began fighting alongside my beloved and his brother, protecting the king as I had promised so long ago._

_ "Kili," I panted, bringing my knives up and blocking a sword stroke meant for his neck. With a yell, I kicked the orc away and sliced his throat open, raising my arm to shield my face from the black blood that spurted out of its corpse. "Get your family, and get out of here!"_

_ "No, not without you!" He yelled. As I turned to yell at him not to worry about me, his yellow-fletched arrow pierced the head of an orc about to take mine off, and I turned my attention to the matter at hand._

_ "I'll be fine!" I yelled, elbowing an orc in the throat and slicing the hand off of another, gagging when some of its blood came in contact with my mouth. Seeing that the youngest prince was unrelenting, I turned to his brother, keeping one eye on him and one on the fight. "Fili!" I yelled desperately, hope for the line of Durin fading more and more by the second. "Get your brother and get out of here, _please_!_ _I will be fine, I promise; I'll protect Thorin and keep him safe, just _go_!"_

_ His blue eyes met mine for a second, and the next thing I knew, one of his knives flew past my face, missing my ear by a hair's breadth and killing an orc that had snuck up behind me. _

_ "Pay attention to the fight, princess!" Thorin's voice came from behind me. I glanced back to see him fighting Bolg, the son of Azog the Defiler. The dwarf king was winning, however, and my heart felt lighter knowing he was, for the moment, somewhat safe. "Do what you can to protect my nephews, I'll be fine!" For the first time in a long time, I sensed no trace of darkness in him, and hope began building inside me once again that everything would be okay. _

_ It was short lived. Seconds later Fili cried out, and I turned to see him, face twisted with pain, breaking off the shaft of an arrow stuck in his shoulder. He continued fighting, his right arm not nearly as strong as before. I moved to stand next to him, providing strength where he could not. _

_ We continued for what could have been hours before Kili yelled in agony. I whirled around to see him clutching at his chest, which was soaked in blood. "NO!" I screamed. He looked up and met his brother's gaze before a terrifying look crossed over Fili's and he began fighting with renewed vigor, obliterating anything that came near to his baby brother. I leaped forward and steadied the prince, shaking and no longer thinking of the battle. _

_ "I'm fine," he grunted, face twisted in pain. "We have to protect Uncle."_

_ I nodded and together we continued fighting. We began cutting through armor as if it were paper, shredding flesh as though it were autumn leaves. As Kili gasped again, this time because of an arrow that punctured his upper arm, all reason left me, and I screamed, standing and attacking anything that came near to him. In minutes, the orcs had formed a loose semicircle around Fili, Kili, and I, trying to end us. I continued fighting, oblivious to any wounds I received._

_ '_Protect, protect, protect_,' The word echoed through by entire being with every beat of my heart and I suddenly became aware of the blood streaming down my face, mixing with the sweat and tears already there. I didn't care._

_ The goblin ranks began thinning out as the battle wore on, and the king was still alive. I could see Dwalin fighting his way towards us, and I began to have hope that we would survive this. _

_ That is, until I glanced around, just in time to see Fili fall to his knees and then onto his back, several arrows in his chest. Kili was by his side, holding his brother's head in his lap, not fighting. I moved and stood above them, fighting off enemies from all sides, and suddenly, a great shout rose up from all sides. _

_ I chanced a glance upwards and saw something I'd never thought I'd see again: a flock of Giant Eagles, headed for the battlefield. I could feel my energy draining rapidly, and I began cursing orcs, swearing under my breath. _

_ I felt feverish and weak, but still I fought, struggling to protect those closest to me. An enormous eagle, the king, if I remembered correctly, began picking off the orcs closest to me, giving me a bit of breathing room as all the other orcs turned to fight the giant bird off. _

_ I fell to my knees beside the brothers, forgetting about the battle and the king and caring about nothing but my beloved who now had a gaping wound in his side; the armor on his left side had been completely torn off, giving my eyes complete access to the mangled and bloodied flesh underneath. He lay on the ground facing his brother, weeping. One glance told me that the golden haired dwarf was dead, and my heart broke at the sight of my love weeping over his brother's body. Kili was gasping for breath as he wept, eyes struggling to stay open. I brushed his hair back, crying and begging him to stay awake._

_ "I'm so sorry," I cried, bowing my head as tears streamed down my face and onto the blood soaked ground under me. "I failed you both, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," I wept._

_ He gasped, voice watery, and I pressed my forehead to his, my hands covering his and his brother's, which were clasped tightly together. "No, you didn't," he croaked, brown eyes locked on mine. "You did your best, and that is enough. I have kept my promise, I have kept you safe."_

_ "W-what?" I whispered, confused and angry and lost. _

_ "You're safe," he gasped, smiling faintly. "Nothing else matters now."_

_ I looked up briefly in time to catch the eye of Thorin, who was scanning the field for his nephews as he fought the pale orc's heir. Nothing could compare to the look of shock and grief that crossed his face, and the scream of agony that tore from his lips nearly made a new wave of tears burst from me._

_ "But you're not," I cried, "I failed you."_

_ "Don't say that," he whispered. He struggled with something in his pocket, and I looked down as he pulled his Runestone from it, pressing it into my hand. "You saved me," he whispered. Hesitating for a moment, he looked up at me. "Please… give this to my mother for me…" _

_ "Don't say that," I shook my head, refusing to give up. "You will make it home, I promise, you'll give it to her yourself, you—"_

_ "Aeyera," he whispered, eyes on mine. He raised his hand and brushed my face as a tear slipped down his cheek. I leaned into his hand, gripping it tightly. "I love you," he gasped, shuddering. "I love you."_

_ "Kili," I cried, hugging him tighter. I pressed my lips to his, begging him to stay with me. "I love you, please, please stay with me!" _

_ He coughed, choking on his own blood, and I began begging and crying hysterically, terrified of being abandoned._

_ "Please," I cried. "Please!"_

_ "Tell Uncle…" Kili gasped. "He didn't… fail us…" Taking one last, shuddering breath, the prince, my beloved, fell back, eyes staring blackly at the sky overhead._

_ I stared at him in shock, still not believing that he was gone. "No," I said, shaking his shoulder, "NO!" I shrieked. "No, Kili, no, please!" I screamed, pulling his body to my chest. "Please, no!" He didn't move. I pressed my hand to his chest, praying for a heartbeat. There was none, and I broke, the dam containing my grief shattering. I sobbed, cradling his limp body in my arms. "I love you, I love you, I love you," I cried, keeping my forehead pressed to his. "I love you, I love you, I love you."_

_-o-_

I opened my eyes, tears streaming down my face as sleep left me. I knew with utter certainty that this had no more been a dream than my memory had. This was a vision, a vision of the future. Very few elves receive them, one being Elrond of Rivendell. I looked over to see Kili lying beside me. _ 'Beloved?' _I wondered. _'Yes,' _I thought._ 'Visions don't lie.'_

I stood and walked into the garden, where early morning sunlight washed everything clean. I made it to the center of the garden before falling to my knees, face in my hands, weeping. "How many times must I fail?" I asked aloud, shaking.

A voice—Kili's voice—spoke softly in my head. _'Visions don't lie,' _it said gently. _'But what they show is not written in stone.'_

_-o-_

**_Alright, once again I'd like to thank you all for reading this, it means alot to me :) Also, I updated tonight because tomorrow morning I am leaving for three weeks and will be unable to reach my computer until late the night of the 23rd of July. Look for an update before the 30th, and I hope to see all of your usernames soon! Also, I love constructive reviews, so feel free to give some :)_**

**_See you all soon!_**

**_-KT_**


	4. Chapter 4

By the time someone came looking for me, I had moved to sit on the edge of the fountain, my boots cast aside and my leggings rolled up past my knees. It was mid-morning; I had sat here for several hours, thinking about the vision I had had the night before. It was rare I could focus on one thing for so long a time, and I found that the state of where I was affected how well I could concentrate. For example, if I were still in Dol Guldur, I would not be able to concentrate on anything but memories and nightmares and death. On the other hand, if I were in Rivendell, I would be able to concentrate considerably better than other alternatives. This place: Beorn's home… I was able to rest here. All the same, my thoughts were troubled and dark.

I sat on the weathered marble seat, my feet in the water, the sun in my hair, and darkness in my mind. _'How can I avoid this fate?' _I thought, imagining different scenarios in my mind, each more desperate than the last. I kicked at the water, feeling it splash up onto my skin. _'How can I save them?'_

"Aeyera?"

Fili's voice reached my ears, but it was as if I was hearing it from underwater, and I didn't turn around. Instead, I stood up on the edge of the fountain and stepped into it, letting the waist-deep water to lap around my hips and soak my tunic. I closed my eyes and dove into the water, letting it soak my body as I tried to concentrate. It was rare that I could achieve this: the blending of dream and reality, the elves' version of sleep. _'How can I save them?'_

I stood, water cascading off me, and Fili tried again, growing agitated. I was rudely jerked from my thoughts, scowling. "Aeyera, we need to talk."

I sighed in frustration as my concentration slipped away completely, leaving me with nothing but a few impossible ideas and wet clothing. "About what?" I finally asked, moving to sit on the edge of the fountain again and allowing myself to dry. As he moved closer, I pulled my dripping hair over to one side and began braiding it over one shoulder, keeping it out of my face. It wasn't as if I had no interest for what Fili was trying to say—I did—but I had a feeling it had to do with Kili, and I had no desire to discuss my feelings with said person's brother.

"About my brother," he said. I stopped what I was doing, snapping my gaze to his frozen form and narrowing my eyes. He looked somewhat uncomfortable about approaching this particular topic with me, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clearly reconsidering his choice to confront me.

"What about him?" I replied somewhat testily, finishing the braid and tying it off with a thin leather band. I swung my legs over the side of the fountain and faced him, toes digging into the lush turf. It was rare for a dwarf to be nervous, especially one from the line of Durin, so I knew what he had to say was important. I just didn't know if I wanted to hear it.

Fili took a deep breath before plowing forward, eyes fixed on mine. "I know you overheard us talking yesterday," he said softly, sitting down on a bench across from me, "and I know you feel something for my brother."

I looked down, breathing heavily, angry at myself for being such a fool, angry at Fili for being so protective and curious, angry at Kili for stealing my heart… angry at everything. Feeling the sting of tears, I blinked them away before looking back up at the blonde dwarf and raising my head up, straightening my shoulders. "Why would you—?"

"I saw you crying, Princess," he said, sounding exasperated. "And I've seen the way you look at him." I felt a flush begin creeping up my neck, and I began twisting my brother's ring around my finger nervously. "What is that?" he asked suddenly, sounding alarmed.

I held up my hand so he could see the ring, but I did not take it off. "It's my brother's ring," I said softly, watching him in confusion as he slumped forward, relieved. "He gave it to me the last time we saw each other. Why?"

"I thought…" he trailed off, sounding embarrassed.

I finished the thought for him. "You thought Kili gave it to me," I said softly, understanding. He flushed, but didn't bother answering. "Why are you so against this, Fili?" I whispered.

"Because I don't know that it's what is best for my brother," he answered harshly. We stared at each other for a moment; green eyes boring into blue, until Bofur's voice broke the silence and made both of us look away.

"Aeyera? Fili?" Bofur's voice carried out to us from the house, and we both turned towards it. "Breakfast!"

I stood and grabbed my boots, but before I could escape to the house, Fili grabbed my arm. "Do you love him?" Fili asked, watching me carefully. I froze, eyes trained on the open door ahead of me. "Do you love Kili?" He repeated sharply.

I turned to him slowly, shaking, as a million answers careened around inside my head. I decided on the truth, knowing that the prince would find out the truth eventually. "Yes," I whispered.

He nodded and released my arm, looking a decade older than he had a moment before. "I thought so," he said simply.

"Don't tell him!" I yelped desperately as he turned to go inside, grabbing his arm tightly. "Please don't tell him!"

He faced me, his face drawn. His eyes saddened as he looked at me. "I won't," he promised. "But you will."

"I can't," I whispered. I felt as though my heart was being pulled in two directions: half towards Kili, and half towards the Undying Lands. I had to leave, that much was certain, if I wished to live; but I found myself wishing that I could spend what little time I had left with Kili before passing on.

"You can," he said, pulling his arm away. "I know you're dying, Princess." I froze, staring wide-eyed at the prince. "Kili doesn't. If you keep leading him on, he'll be heartbroken, and it will be even harder for you to let go when the time comes."

"B-but I—" I stammered, close to tears. "I don't—"

"Aeyera," he said, stepping closer and taking my hands in his. I hadn't felt this young in forever, and I knew that Fili was just trying to protect the two of us. It didn't make it any easier. "I don't want you or my brother to get hurt."

I nodded, my vision swimming. "I know. That's why I can't tell him. I promised I would take protect the line of Durin, and I can't do that if my heart is telling to protect only one. If I tell Kili I love him, then he will try to protect me, and—wait. Does… does he—?" I gulped, suddenly unable to breathe properly. "Does he love _me_?" I managed. I had overheard their conversation, yes, but 'love' and 'like' are very different, and I had no desire to be led on any more than Kili did.

He nodded wearily. "Yes. You know now why I confronted you," he said. "You feel something for each other. Feelings that are now sparks, but that can grow into a flame that can consume us all. When you tell him, you need to tell him it will not work out between you. That is the only way to protect you both."

"Princess! Brother!" Kili's voice caught my attention, and I swung around to face the beaming dwarf. "Come inside," he called, grinning.

"We're on our way, Kili," Fili called. As we headed in, he gripped my shoulder tightly. "It is your choice," he whispered ominously in my ear before stepping away and following his brother inside.

I took a deep breath and followed them inside, making a choice. I would tell Kili eventually about how I felt, but not now. And I wouldn't lie: I wouldn't hurt him by saying I didn't love him.

I walked inside, blinking quickly as my eyes adjusted to the dim atmosphere. All the dwarves were sitting at Beorn's table, and the skin-changer was walking around the perimeter of the table, filling up the dwarves' flagons with fresh milk. I stood against a support beam, watching the meal silently. No one was speaking, and a very tense silence reigned over the room.

"It is nice to see you again, old friend," I said, smiling. Beorn straightened up and turned to me, eyes wide in surprise, before scooping me up in a hug. I laughed with him as he set me down, beaming.

"My princess," he said happily, his voice deep. "It truly is an honor to see you again."

"Much time has passed," I agreed. "But I am here, and I am well."

A knowing look passed over his face. "I do not know if that is true," he said, "but no matter. My heart is gladdened to see you in good health once more." He turned and continued serving the dwarves, a smile on his face.

The room was silent for several more minutes, and by the time he spoke again, the smile had disappeared from his face. As he poured Fili's drink, he spoke, his voice brooding. "So you are the one they call Oakenshield," he said to Thorin, who leaned against a pillar at the edge of the gathering. "Tell me," he said, turning around and fixing him with his piercing gaze, "why is Azog the Defiler hunting you?"

Thorin and I both froze, and his eyes went wide as he clenched his fists. "You know of Azog," he said. He looked to be struggling to maintain his composure, and fear was clear in his eyes. He turned around to look at Beorn, curious. "How?"

"My people were the first to live in the mountains," Beorn said, taking a deep, shuddering breath. "Before the orcs came down from the North." He paused, his face expressionless, but his eyes grieved. "The defiler killed most of my family." I looked away. I had guessed this, but had not asked him. '_We are the same, he and I. Both have lost what we loved most to darkness. We both are alone.' _"But some he enslaved," he said. My eyes travelled to his wrists, where the remains of chains still hung, and I looked down quickly. "Not for work, you understand, but for sport." His voice was bitter and angry, and anger and hatred towards the darkness grew inside me as well. "Caging skin-changers and torturing them seemed to amuse him." I closed my eyes, feeling tears pricking at the corners of them.

"There are others like you?" Bilbo spoke up, curious.

"Once there were many," Beorn whispered, turning away.

"And… now?" Bilbo frowned.

"Now there is only one."

Each member of the company drew a sharp breath, feeling grieved for this man: the last of his kind. "You need to reach the Mountain before the last days of autumn," he said, sitting down.

"Before Durin's Day falls, yes," Gandalf nodded, raising his pipe. Thorin looked as though he would like nothing more than to strangle the wizard.

"You are running out of time," Beorn said.

"Which is why we must go through Mirkwood," Gandalf said. I jumped horribly upon hearing the name, and I looked at him as though he had betrayed me. In a way, he had.

"A darkness lies upon that forest," Beorn said grimly, glancing at me. "Fell things creep beneath those trees." I shuddered as his unblinking gaze fell upon the rest of the company, which shifted restlessly. "There is an alliance between the orcs of Moria and the Necromancer in Dol Guldur." A cold chill raced down my spine and I gripped the post tightly to keep from falling over as the blood drained from my face. "I would not venture there, except in great need."

"We will take the elven road," Gandalf said reassuringly. "Their path is still safe."

"'Safe'?" Beorn repeated as Thorin stood and began moving away from the table. "The wood-elves of Mirkwood are not like their kin." At his words, the eyes of most of the company travelled to me. "They are less wise, and more dangerous. Simply compare your princess to the elves of Rivendell, and you will see a glimpse of what I mean. But it matters not," he whispered.

Thorin turned around. "What do you mean?"

"These lands are crawling with orcs," he said ominously. "Their numbers are growing, and you are on foot. You will never reach the forest alive." The faces of all the company turned white with horror, including Thorin's. Beorn stood suddenly, pushing back his chair, and I jumped as he made his way to the dwarf-king, banding under the eaves of the roof. "I don't like dwarves," he growled, straightening to his full height. "They're greedy, and blind," he picked up a mouse Bofur had carelessly brushed off his sleeve. "Blind to the lives of those they deem lesser than their own." Thorin watched him, eyes glimmering in defiance with what I could have sworn were tears as Beorn watched the small, white creature in his hand. "But orcs I hate more," he said softly, eyes widening. Thorin looked surprised. The mouse peeked out over the edge of his large hand. "What do you need?"

At this point, I had ducked outside, feeling sick. Not only had Beorn scared me—I truly though he had been about to attack the dwarves—but I also had learned that I was going home to the Greenwood, now christened 'Mirkwood'. I couldn't go there—I was an exile! The instant I stepped foot in those woods, I was writing myself a prison sentence.

"Aeyera!" Kili called.

I had found my way into a large tree, and I looked down sourly at the dwarf below me. "What?" I called back bitterly. "Come to ask if I mind being bait? Maybe you can offer me to my father as a 'Get-through-Mirkwood-free' pass!"

"Calm down!" Kili said, sounding wrong-footed by my outburst. "What are you talking about?"

I swung myself down, landing on my feet in front of him. "We're going through Greenwood the Great," I said, panicking. "Except now it's called Mirkwood. My home, which I was exiled from two hundred years ago! My father and brother live there, and the instant they find out I'm back, I'll be thrown into prison for the rest of eternity!"

Kili looked alarmed and slightly frightened at the sight of me, in tears, panting from exertion. My hands were on my knees, and I was bent over, gasping. He pat my shoulder awkwardly, clearly not knowing what to do. "It's going to be alright," he said, trying to calm me down. "We won't let them take you. _I _won't let them take you," he added under his breath.

I stood, shaking out my shoulders as Gandalf and Thorin came outside. "My dear elf," Gandalf began, but I cut him off, speaking angrily in elvish.

"_Mithrandir, why would you not tell me we were going through the Greenwood?_" I snapped. "_You of all people know that it is one of the most dangerous places in Middle Earth for dwarves to travel!_"

Gandalf did not respond in elvish, rather, he spoke in the language of the Westron, allowing the others to listen to at least his half of the conversation. "Princess," he said tiredly, "if I had told you, it would merely have given you an excuse to throw a fit that much sooner." I flushed angrily as he continued. "Besides, Mirkwood is the only safe way to the Mountain. Going South would lead to Dol Guldur, and heading North would lead to Ered Mithrim, which is perilously close to Mount Gundabad and the Grey Mountains. So unless you wish to explore the Necromancer's fortress or the breeding grounds of the Wargs, I suggest you grow accustomed to the fact that our road leads through your old home, and that we are travelling there whether you wish it or not!"

I turned and walked away, biting my tongue to keep from cursing the wizard with all the breath in my lungs. As I rounded the corner of the house, I ran into Beorn, who was carrying a leather bag, which was dwarfed by his large hands. "These are the clothes you left behind when last you were here," he said, handing them to me.

I thanked him, still angry. "Beorn?" I asked, having a sudden thought.

"Hm?" He replied, turning around.

"Is there anywhere I can clean myself off?" I asked. He nodded and pointed to a small lake behind his house, surrounded by a thick wooded area, which was about a square quarter of a mile, which would shield me from prying eyes. The entire area, including his house, was surrounded by a tall, thick hedge, which kept the orcs and wargs away.

"I will keep the dwarves away," he said, smiling serenely. "But just in case," he added, "take this dog with you. She will bark if anyone approaches." He whistled, and a beautiful white wolf trotted over, clearly tame. "Her name is _Ehiela_," he said. "I believe it means 'devoted' in your language." She pressed her muzzle into my hand and licked it once, wagging her tail. With a smile, I nodded and headed over to the water, casting nervous looks around me as Ehiela stayed by my side.

Once I was deep in the woods and convinced no one had followed me, I sat down at the water's edge and began pulling off my tunic. I sighed as I surveyed the damage done to my underclothes when I reached them. I had tied the ends together, but it was a miracle they had stayed on for so long. I lay my boots and worn leather corset on the grass to stay dry and pulled the rest of my dirty clothes into the water with me. Once I was convinced the dirt was mostly out of them, I lay them on the shore to dry before turning and jumping into the water. The pond was large enough that Beorn in his bear form would have no trouble swimming comfortably, and was deep enough that, while Beorn could touch, I could not.

There were several boulders sticking up out of the water, and I leaned against one as I scrubbed months of grime off my skin with a piece of cloth. It had never felt so good to be clean. Such was my joy that I did not notice anyone approaching until Ehiela barked and growled. I jumped behind the boulder, bright red, fully aware that I was wearing absolutely _nothing._

"Aeyera?" Kili called. I wrapped my arms around my chest, scowling. "How, whoa," he said, sounding nervous. "Easy there…" Ehiela barked menacingly, and I didn't have to look to see that she was about to attack.

"_Ehiela, come!_" I called in elvish. She instantly trotted over to where she could see me and sat down, watching Kili warily.

"Aeyera, is that you?" Kili asked.

"Obviously," I snapped, still beet red. "I'm busy right now, please go back to the house and wait for an appropriate time to talk."

"What? But why…" it became obvious that he had noticed my clothes and where he was, and I could hear the embarrassment in his voice. "Oh, _Mahal… _I'm so—I didn't… I'll go!" I heard him turn and book it back to the house, and not until Ehiela relaxed did I come out from behind the boulder and finish cleaning myself off. Once I pulled on the clean clothes Beorn had given me, as well as my boots and corset, I clicked my tongue, and together Ehiela and I made our way back to Beorn's house.

Every time I thought of Kili, I would blush bright red. '_He caught me bathing, for Seldarine's sake… what would the others think if he had told them?! Did he see anything? Oh, please let him not have seen anything…_'

As I entered the house, the place went silent, and several dwarves winked at me before nodding their heads to Kili, who sat, looking mortified, in his corner. As I approached and set my belongings down, he spoke up, talking at the speed of light. "I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't know you were bathing, I just didn't know where you were after you stormed off and I didn't want you getting hurt, so I followed you, but I swear I didn't see anything, and—"

"Kili," I said, relieved that he hadn't seen anything but annoyed that he had told the others what had happened. "Forget it."

"So, princess," Bofur spoke up, grinning childishly. "How was your bath?"

At the sight of Kili's and my bright red faces, the others all began laughing, and I wouldn't have minded if not for the dark look Fili cast my way.


	5. Chapter 5

The rest of the day passed as awkwardly as the morning had, with several exceptions. First of all, Thorin found out what had happened and now raised his eyebrows at both Kili and myself whenever he passed us by.

Secondly, several of the dwarves had taken to strewing flower petals along the ground in front of me, asking me questions like, 'Do I hear wedding bells in your future?' or, 'When will you need to start looking for baby names?' The second one came from Fili, whose eyes still were dark with anger, and I had chased him around the house, yelling at the top of my lungs like the mature two hundred year old elf princess that I was. Even though I knew he had said it in jest, the fact that he would _dare_ suggest that I had lost my honor to someone who was not my husband was something neither my people nor I took lightly. Once Gandalf had found and shielded Fili from my wrath, he sat him down and explained all this to him while a concerned Beorn dragged me from the room.

The final ripple, which was the one that made me the saddest, was that Kili and I were avoiding one another. This made me incredibly sad because, although I was indescribably embarrassed by what had taken place that morning, he remained my dearest friend, whom I did not wish to lose.

"Aeyera, we need to talk," Beorn's deep voice reached my ears, and I looked up, surprised. I was sitting on a bench by the fountain, thinking, and unconsciously keeping the heel of my hand pressed against the place I had been stabbed so long ago. "You are quiet," he said, sitting next to me with a grunt. "And much too solemn for a wood elf. Why?"

"Why do you think, my friend?" I asked softly, rubbing my side to ease the discomfort I felt.

"I think that the sea is calling you home," he finally answered. "And you do not know how to answer its call." I nodded, silent, and we sat together, taking comfort in each other's presence, neither saying a word as the sun set over the mountains to the West.

As the stars began to appear, Beorn spoke again. "Be careful, Princess," he said, rising to his feet. "The same darkness that corrupts the Greenwood lives in you. Do not allow yourself to be overcome by it, or all will be lost."

I nodded, a lump in my throat, as he turned and strode away to make plans with Gandalf before changing and guarding us from the orcs that still stalked the Company.

"Princess?"

I looked over my shoulder and scowled at Fili, who was now standing behind me. "What?" I growled. "Have you come to give suggestions for baby names?"

A faint smile appeared on his lips as he sat down next to me. "No," he chuckled softly, "Although I do have a few in mind." I looked away, pulling my knees up to my chest as he continued. "I came to apologize to you for my behavior." I huffed, resting my chin on my knees, and he laughed sadly. "I should not have asked such a thing from you," he said, "and I should not have responded so angrily when you did not do as I asked. I don't know what came over me."

"Nothing happened, you know," I told him in a small voice, watching my mother's constellation appear. "He didn't see anything."

He sighed. "I know. I just felt that you were deliberately trying to spite me because of what I asked of you, and for that I am sorry. I know that neither you nor my brother would dishonor yourselves in such a way, and I am sorry for assuming as much."

I nodded and glanced over at him. "I forgive you," I murmured. "But… why would you be so furious at the thought of your brother and I being together?"

He was silent for a moment, and I waited and listened as the crickets around us began to chirp. "I suppose… I suppose that it's because I don't want either of you to be hurt when this is all over. You are dying, and I don't know what happens when an elf dies, but it doesn't sound good. Kili, if we survive this, will be a prince, and if Thorin and I do not make it, the king. Whatever happens, there will be heartbreak at the end of this journey. I only wished to spare you both from it."

"I thank you," I said, looking up into his eyes, "but I would rather have you as a friend than as an advisor."

He smiled. "I agree, princess. Come on," he said after a moment. "We should get some rest; we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

I shuddered and followed him in, barely limping. Ehiela bounded over to me, yipping happily, and I rubbed her head before going inside to join the others. I sat down next to Kili, who blushed, and ignored the smirks and winks from the rest of the company.

"So, princess," Thorin began, sounding grave.

I groaned, slamming my hand down on the table as I stood, pushing back my chair. "For the final time," I said, forcing my voice to stay at a normal pitch, "_nothing _happened. I swear, I will feed the next dwarf who asks me a question about what happened this morning to Beorn!"

Saying this, I turned and left the house, coming to a stop outside by the fountain, which had been my sanctuary most of the day. "Aeyera!" I looked over my shoulder to see an irritated Thorin making his way over to me. "Why did you storm off?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"I did not wish to face any more mocking speech, courtesy of the company," I admitted bitterly. I glanced up to see a slight smile on the king's face, and I turned aside. "Traitor," I muttered.

He laughed softly. "You remind me so much of my sister," he said wistfully. "She was much like you when she was young, before the death of her husband." I looked at him questioningly. "Her name is Dís," he explained, "and she is incredibly stubborn, even by the standards of dwarves. She has a pure heart, though," he said. By now we had walked out of view of the doorway and were making our way across the garden towards the wooded area from earlier. "When she found her One," he said, "Kiri, she was teased by my brother and I as well. Of course," he added hastily, "I was barely of age… quite immature at the time."

I laughed, wondering why he seemed to be comparing mine and Kili's teasing to that of Dís and Kiri. "Of course," I murmured.

"She and her betrothed had to put up with much of this before they were married, and while they both hated it, it made their relationship stronger. In fact," he recalled, smirking, "I recall a similar incident to yours, when Kiri accidentally walked in on Dís one day. Thankfully, he saw nothing, otherwise my nephews would not have been born." He spoke lightly, but I detected a protective note in his voice directed towards his sister.

Upon hearing it, I felt a pang of regret, which I quickly squelched. My brother and I could have been this close, if I had stayed. He could have watched me grow up; laughed and supported me when I found my One, and been there for me whatever happened. I shook my head, closing my eyes. That future is gone.

"Princess?" Thorin sounded concerned, and I opened my eyes, surprised to find that tears had wound their way down my cheeks. "Are you alright?"

I sniffed, giving him a watery smile as I wiped the tears from my face. "I'm fine, Thorin," I said softly. "It's just…" I trailed off, not wanting to waste my time telling him something he did not wish to hear.

"What is it?" he asked, frowning.

"I had a brother, once," I said, walking forward again. Thorin followed, listening closely. "I still do, I suppose, but I haven't seen him in nearly two hundred years. He is all but gone," I said sadly, "and there is little to no chance of our paths crossing again on this earth."

"Just because one has not seen someone they love in a long time does not mean they still are not a part of you," Thorin said wisely. I wondered if he spoke from experience, whether he lost a brother or his wife or child.

"Whom did you lose?" I asked, looking over at him. His features were softer in the moonlight than they were in the sun, and his shoulders sagged with weariness.

"I have lost many whom I loved," he said, his voice ragged with sorrow. "I lost my grandfather and father, as well as my brother. My One, Nadaí … she took ill and passed on nearly fifty years ago, taking our unborn child with her."

I stared at him, frozen in grief. The same thought that stuck me the night before came to me again. _'We are the same, he and I. Both have lost what we loved most to darkness. We both are alone.' _At the same time, though, we weren't alone. He had his nephews, whom he loved most dearly. I, although I had yet to cross paths with him again, had my brother. There still was light ahead of us, although darkness had tried to overcome us. "I am sorry," I said, touching his arm gently. "I did not know."

He shook his head and sat down on a rock at the edge of the glade, and I sat beside him, my hand on his shoulder as he wept. I could not believe that Thorin, the dwarf king who was so strong in daylight, who was leading his kin to fight against a dragon for his home, could be so weak and broken under the light of the stars.

"I lost my mother when I was very young," I told him, my voice soft and sad. "She fell protecting my brother and I from a company of orcs who attacked us while my father was away. She fought bravely, but…" I stopped, feeling the weight of my sorrow land heavily on my shoulders. "After that, my father hated me," I whispered. "He scolded everything I did, whether we were alone or in the company of others. You saw a glimpse of this when we visited you in Erebor," I told him. "My brother shielded my from it as best he could, once we grew to trust and rely on one another again. My father ignored the pleas of your people, going so far as to lead the army of my kin to your doorstep before turning and leaving for the forests. Some stayed," I told him. "Several companies of elves stayed and fought for you, saving many lives. They were exiled as well; I do not know where they are now."

"What do you mean, 'they were exiled _as well_'?" he asked, turning to me. His weeping had ceased, and I was surprised that he had been listening to me; I had expected him to have ignored what I was saying.

"My father exiled me from the Greenwood," I said softly. "I assumed that it was the case when first I left, but I knew for sure when the company of rangers I travelled with passed too close to the forest's borders. Several elves appeared and warned the rangers not to come closer. When they were questioned as to why they would make such a demand, they pointed to me, saying that the king—my father—had exiled me from those lands long ago, and that to return would cost me my freedom, if not my life… for returning would be committing treason, in my father's eyes. This is why I did not wish to return to the Greenwood. If I do, it is unlikely I will ever leave."

Thorin and I sat, saying nothing, for a long while. _'Quite the pair we make,' _I thought. _'An elf and a dwarf, both broken, and both searching for a home. The difference is that he has a chance of finding happiness there, while nothing but sorrow and pain awaits me in the East.'_

"We should go back," he said, rising and offering me his hand, pulling me to my feet. "I need to tell the others of the journey ahead of us. We must cross through the Mirkwood, and for that I am sorry," he apologized, looking regretful, "but I will not allow any harm to come to you. You have my word," he promised.

"Thank you," I said, sincere. "But do not make a promise you can not hope to keep."

"You should take your own advice as well, Princess," Thorin said, looking over at me. "Did you not promise the wizard to protect my kin and I from harm?"

I froze, closing my eyes. "I did," I finally said, "and I have yet to break the promise."

With that, the two of us walked back to Beorn's house in respectful silence, and I listened from a corner as he relayed his plan to the others: travel with great haste through the Mirkwood, gather supplies in Esgaroth, and then march on to the mountain. He did not, however, mention how he planned on defeating the dragon, and I didn't bring it up.

Once the meeting was over, I stood and made my way outside; I needed no sleep, and the snoring of the dwarves would only distract me from my thoughts. As the night wore on, the moon and stars shone down upon me as I sat, head bowed, praying to Eru that no harm would come to the company as we passed through my homeland.

-O-

At noon the next day, the company and I stood at the threshold of the Mirkwood, peering into the forest. Beorn had stayed behind in his bear form to give us time to escape, but we only had until night, when the orcs would continue their hunt once more.

"The Elven gate," Gandalf said, standing at the border of the wood. He turned to face the rest of us, solemn. "Here lies our path through Mirkwood," he said, ignoring the way my face turned white with fear and apprehension. Thorin glanced at me as if checking on my wellbeing, and I nodded. Now was not the time to display weakness.

"No sign of the orcs…" Dwalin said, shifting restlessly on his pony. "We have luck on our side," he grunted, dismounting. The wizard looked doubtful but said nothing, looking instead up to the mountain a ways away where the form of Beorn could be seen. I could see the wildness in his eyes from this distance, and I suppressed a shudder.

"Set the ponies loose," Gandalf commanded, looking back at us. "Let them return to their master."

"This forest feels… sick," Bilbo said, frowning as he walked over to Gandalf. I stood a few feet away, unwilling to get within a certain distance of the forest unless I had to. "As if a disease lies upon it. Is there no way around?" he asked grimly.

"Not unless we go two hundred miles North," the wizard replied, "or twice that distance… South."

The hobbit looked about as disappointed as I felt, and I followed him back to the ponies and horses as Gandalf continued going inside. I had nothing to unload from my horse, since I rode bareback, so I sent him on ahead of the others; I had a feeling that he liked the Mirkwood even less than I did.

Gandalf had ventured a ways inside, but I held back, afraid that my father would appear out of the trees and damn me the instant I stepped foot inside. I blinked and leaned against a pony, feeling suddenly faint as if the darkness inside me was killing me.

"Are you alright?" Ori asked, looking up at me with wide eyes.

I waved him off. "Fine," I mumbled as a pressure built up in my head. I crouched down and grit my teeth as a ringing sounded in my ears. "I'm fine." I shook my head as the darkness inside me leapt up as if in joy, and I pressed a hand to my forehead, shutting my eyes tightly against the feeling as the image of a great eye, wreathed in fire, flashed before my eyes before vanishing without a trace.

"The High Fells," Gandalf said quietly. I tilted my head in confusion; he seemed to be speaking to himself. "So be it. Not my horse!" Gandalf suddenly cried as the dwarves sent the ponies cantering back to Beorn. "I need it!" I opened my eyes as the feeling passed to see the wizard striding towards the confused dwarves, who until then had been unloading the ponies without a problem. Gandalf's horse was the only beast that still remained with us.

The dwarves all began muttering confusedly to each other, asking the wizard why he was leaving, many of them asking 'what?' as if they had heard him wrong.

"You're not leaving us?" Bilbo asked darkly, sounding uncharacteristically angry and betrayed.

"I would not do this unless I had to," the wizard replied as a shadow crossed Thorin's face.

The wizard peered down at him, frowning. "You've changed, Bilbo Baggins," he said gravely. "You're not the same hobbit as the one who left the Shire."

"I was going to tell you—" Bilbo blurted suddenly. Gandalf raised an eyebrow as he peered down at the hobbit. "I… found something in the goblin tunnels," he said.

"Found what?" the wizard frowned as Bilbo shifted uncomfortably under his scrutinizing gaze. "What did you find?"

Bilbo stayed silent for a moment. "My courage," he gasped, removing his hand from his pocket. I frowned; obviously this was not what he was going to say.

"Good… well, that's good!" Gandalf said, straightening. Bilbo smiled proudly. "You'll need it."

Gandalf proceeded to warn Thorin about staying on the path, and also commanded him not to enter Erebor without him. Right before he left, I ran up and grabbed the horse's reins. "Gandalf, you can't leave," I said. I was in a state of panic; I didn't know where it came from.

He frowned down at me. "My young elf, I must go. Lead the company along your path and all will be well so long as you don't stray from it." He reached over and took ahold of my wrist to loosen my grip, and as he did, my vision from two nights before flashed back through my mind, the force of it knocking me back to the ground. Gandalf's face had gone white, and I knew that he had seen what plagued my mind. He looked down at me, and I knew that his mission had become even graver than before. "Keep it secret," he said quietly, referring to my vision. "Keep it safe."

Without another word, he urged his mount into a gallop, and I was left without a guide at the edge of the Greenwood. "Come on," I said, my mouth dry. "We travel only with the light." With that, we entered Mirkwood, where every step led the company and me closer to imprisonment.


	6. Chapter 6

After five minutes of travelling through the Mirkwood, I understood how much had changed since I last walked the elven paths. After nearly a week of travelling in the Mirkwood, I realized that I never wanted to step foot in this light-forsaken forest again. Each and every member of the company, with the exception of Master Baggins and myself, had pale, ashen skin and dark circles under their eyes. From the way they stepped, staggering into one another, I gathered that they were hallucinating or close to fainting, and I cursed my father, thinking that it was one of his enchantments.

"Aeyera?" Kili asked that night. We could not light a fire because of the giant moths that lived here, so we sat in darkness, waiting desperately for the dawn.

"Hm?" I answered, turning my head to face him. Because of my keen eyesight, I could make out his dim outline and the sleeping forms of the other dwarves scattered around the path.

"Are you alright?" He asked, concerned. "You're quite pale, and you seem…" he trailed off, thinking. "Sick," he finally said, struggling to find a word that described my ailments.

I sighed, feeling weaker than I had in a long time. "I'm fine," I whispered. In the pressing silence, it was if I had shouted. "It's just… this place used to be my home," I explained sadly. "When I lived here, it was the Greenwood, and there were no giant moths, no sickness, no darkness. Each night, the woods would be soaked in starlight and moonlight, so bright that you could travel the same as if it were day." Kili's outline nodded, and I continued. "Elves often reflect the state of the land they are in," I said softly, "and this land, it's…"

"It's dying," Kili finished.

I nodded. "The farther East we go, the worse I will become. Esgaroth, from what I've gathered from the rangers, has fallen into decay, and now is called 'Laketown'. Erebor is under the influence of a dragon. Dale is made up of crumbling ruins. If one travels farther, he would reach Rhûn, before that, the Iron Hills."

"What is Rhûn?" Kili asked. "I've heard of it, but I know nothing of it."

"Rhûn is the East," I explained, "And I am one of the few people in Middle Earth who have been there who did not already live there. There is little to report, as the land is made up of unnamed forests, lakes, and plains. There is a sea there, called the Sea of Rhûn, which is unpleasant and salty. Beyond the sea, there is naught but desert."

"Oh," he said, going silent. After a moment, though, he spoke again. "What happens if you go south?" he asked curiously, "Or north?"

"To go south from here would mean walking into Dol Guldur, something I will never do again." My voice took on a cutting edge, and I shuddered in remembrance of my time as prisoner there. Kili's hand touched my arm hesitantly, and I leaned against him, feeling calmer than I had previously. "The land of Mordor lays south-east of here," I said, resting my head on his shoulder, "But the woods of Lothlórienlay south of the Greenwood." In a quiet, longing voice, I sang of it, wondering if I could rest there after the quest was finished. "_In Dwimordene, in Lórien, seldom have walked the feet of Men, few mortal eyes have seen the light that lies there ever, long and bright. Galadriel! Galadriel! Clear is the water of your well; white is the star in your white hand; unmarred, unstained is leaf and land in Dwimordene, in Lórien, more fair than thoughts of Mortal Men._"

"It sounds beautiful," Kili said. "Who is Galadriel?"

"She is the Lady of Lórien," I said softly, closing my eyes. "That is all I can say, and all you can hear. She is wise and fair, and my wish is to travel there, to Lórien, before I—" I stopped myself suddenly. Kili didn't know that I planned on leaving.

"'Before' what?" Kili asked, frowning.

I took a deep breath. "Nothing," I said. "It's nothing."

We both remained silent for the rest of the night, and when the company awoke, grey faced and bleary eyed, we continued on.

Because of my obvious weakening, Thorin had allowed Nori and Dwalin to lead the company while I hung back with Kili and Fili, who both seemed concerned for me. More than once, I stumbled, only to have one or both of them catch me. I felt faint, and began walking above the trees, dreaming in the way only elves can.

Suddenly, I ran into the back of Balin, who had stopped moving, and snapped back into reality. I looked around, confused, then looked down at my feet, feeling a rush of panic wash over me. I stood on a dirt path strewn with leaves, and several broken, dirty tiles sat underfoot. I didn't know how far from the path we had travelled, but one thing was for sure: we were in serious danger.

"What is it? What's going on?" The dwarves questioned as I forced my way to the front of the company. When I broke through the crowd of dwarves, one of them grabbed my elbow and pulled me back just as I started stepping out into thin air. My heart jumped into my throat as I realized that I had almost walked off the edge of a cliff, and I began shaking violently.

"We've lost the path!"

Thorin turned to the rest of the dwarves as he released his grip on my arm. "Find it. All of you, look!"

"Look for the path!" Dwalin yelled. They obediently begin to search, although all their efforts are in vain. I shook my head suddenly to clear it_. 'We're lost… we're never outing get… getting out.'_ I pressed my hands against my temple and sank down to my knees. _'Come on… pook for the lath… look for the path!' _I let out a frustrated yell and stood, staggering slightly, looking around. All the other dwarves, though they seemed to be searching, were doing so slowly, as if in a dream.

"I don't remember this place," Balin said, looking around, "none of it's familiar."

"It's got to be here," Dori exclaimed.

"It doesn't," I said. No one heeded me.

"What hour is it?" Thorin called. I closed my eyes.

"I don't know, I don't even know what day it is!" One of the dwarves cried.

"Is there no end to this accursed place!?" Thorin yelled. We sat down, resting, and Bilbo sat next to me. I opened my eyes just as Bilbo plucked a thick strand of a massive spider web next to him, which caused a vibration to run through it. If I'd been thinking straight, I would have yelled and grabbed Bilbo's wrist to keep him from touching the web again, and rushed the dwarves away from this accursed resting place. But I wasn't, so I didn't; I only watched as he touched the web again.

A bit of common sense remained, so I stood and staggered over to Thorin. "We need to keep moving," I told him. He nodded and gave the command, and we continued onward through the forest.

We wander for hours, and the dwarves become more and more irritable and disillusioned as we continue on. A few hours before sunset, a commotion from the front of the company caused us all to halt, and I looked around to see why we were no longer moving.

"Look, a tobacco pouch. There's Dwarves in these woods!" Dori said shrilly, eyes bugging out as he took the pouch from Ori. The image was frightening, to say the least, and I felt myself grown more nervous than before.

"Dwarves from the Blue Mountains, no less," Bofur said, examining it with wide eyes. "This is exactly the same as mine!"

Bilbo, the only one who still had their wits about them besides me, stepped in, irritable. "Because it is yours, do you understand? We're going around in circles, we are lost!"

"We are not lost!" Thorin bellowed. "We keep heading east."

"But which way is the east? We've lost the sun!" Dwalin exclaimed hopelessly.

The dwarves begin arguing amongst themselves about whether they're lost or not, shoving each other and yelling furiously.

"The sun," Bilbo muttered, tapping his head and looking around. "We have to find… the sun." He looked up and tapped his head again, a smile on his face. "Up there," he said, turning to the others. "We need to—" he broke off at the sight of the dwarves pushing and hitting each other as they begin fighting.

"Come on," I gasped, shaking my head. I pulled Bilbo over to a nearby tree and boost him into it before following him, reveling in the thought of reaching the sun."Enough! Quite! All of you!" he yelled. "We are being watched," I heard him whisper. If I hadn't been so dizzy, I might have been afraid, but I couldn't focus on anything but the sunlight seeping through the dead leaves and branches above my head.

As my head broke through the canopy, a cool wind hit my face, immediately blowing the cobwebs away from my mind. I was myself again. For the first time since I stepped foot in the Mirkwood, a pang of homesickness hit me. Looking out over the sea of scarlet and gold leaves, glowing like fire in the light of the setting sun, I felt like an elfling again. As I push myself all the way out of the woods, hundreds of blue monarch butterflies lift themselves up off the treetops, swirling around me in the early autumn breeze. It was early September now, or late August, I couldn't tell which. I look around and laugh with joy at the beauty surrounding me. _'This is what all of the Greenwood should be like,' _I thought sadly, _'this is all that is left of Greenwood the Great.'_

Bilbo, whom I had forgotten had come up here with me, was exclaiming, "I can... see a lake! And a... a river." He pushed a branch down, revealing Erebor. "And the Lonely Mountain!" He laughed to himself. "We're almost there!" He looked down, trying to catch a glimpse of the dwarves. "Can you hear me?" he called, "I know which way to go!"

I listened carefully, but heard nothing from below us, and an icy dread seeped through my bones. "Bilbo," I whispered, looking around.

"Hello?!" he yelled, a worried look on his face. He still received no response, so he looked over to the east, where the treetops were moving: something was coming, fast. "Hello," he frowned. He tried to take a step forward but looked down to see that his feet were bound in a spider's web. "Look—" he tripped. "Oh come on, whoa!" he yelled, plunging headfirst off the branch.

"Bilbo!" I yelped, looking down. I felt relieved to see that he had caught himself on another branch, but froze in horror as a giant spider emerged from the shadows and let out an ear-shattering screech before lunging at the hobbit. Bilbo yelled and released the spider's leg, falling down and landing, eagle spread, in the spider's web.

His struggles were fruitless; the spider wrapped him up and began scurrying through the forest, ignoring me. I took a shuddering breath as the shock of what had just happened wore off and the fear of being alone set in. _'I'm alone,' _I thought, beginning to shake. _'And if I'm found by anyone besides my friends, I'll be imprisoned for the remainder of my short life.'_

I closed my eyes and climbed back into the treetops, taking care not to touch any stray webs. Once I was back in the sun, I could think clearly again, and I drew one of my long knives, taking comfort in the familiar, leather-wrapped grip. Taking a deep breath, I began to follow after the spider, praying that I would not be noticed by anything or anyone that would do me harm.

-O-

After what felt like an eternity, I began to hear familiar voices from far below. The first voice I recognized was Thorin's, and he sounded panicked. "Dwalin! Kill it! Kill it!" Taking a deep breath, I crouched down and plunged back into the murky shadows of the Mirkwood.

The first thing I saw was an enormous spider gripping Thorin in several of its legs, only to be beaten off by Dwalin, who swung his ax with deadly precision as he hacked off the spider's legs.

"Fili!" Kili yelled. I sheathed my knife and drew my bow in one movement, sending an arrow flying into the spider's ugly head with the next. At the same time, Fili stabbed the spider and shoved it off his brother before pulling him to his feet.

I remained where I was, firing arrow after arrow, until another spider, this one much bigger than the others, lunged up at me. I let out a shrill scream as I fell backwards off the branch and plunged towards the ground, terrified.

As I fell, my boot was caught in a web, and I yelled in pain as I jerked to a stop, suspended upside-down by my foot. The spider appeared above me, and I realized with no small amount of horror that I couldn't reach my arrows from my position; they were tied in such a way that they couldn't fall out of my bow, but if I tried to reach them, I would never get them out. The dwarves, who didn't hear my scream, continued yelling at each other, urging each other to move.

"Come on, Keep up!" Dwalin yelled, pushing the younger dwarves ahead of him.

Thorin looked around, not seeing any spiders. "Clear—"

They jumped back as a spider landed in front of them, and I looked up to see at least a dozen more descending from the treetops.

The spider that had cornered me tried to get near my face, but I kicked it hard as it moving upwards, using the momentum to turn my body right side up. Sheathing my bow, I drew my knives and began hacking at the spider web, finally falling through the shredded remains to a thick branch below. The spider followed me, but was quickly ended. Once I was on my feet, there was little I couldn't do to defend myself. In all the commotion, I had lost track of the dwarves, and I froze at the sight of a tall, elven warrior skidding to a halt in front of them, his arrow trained at a spot between Thorin's eyes.

"Do not think I won't kill you, Dwarf," I heard him say. I still was so dizzy from fear that I couldn't make out his face, but it was coming into sharper focus now that anger was replacing my terror. "It would be my pleasure."

Suddenly, screams for help rent the air and I turned, the blood draining from my face, to see who it was. "Kili!" Fili screamed, unable to help his brother because of the elven guard holding him at arrow point.

Leaping off the branch, I fell a good thirty feet before landing, rolling down to the ground, jumping back up, and using the momentum to hurl my knife into the spider's skull. It let out a small squeal as it crumpled to the ground, and I yanked the knife out and began fighting another spider, panting. With a yell, I pushed it back, slicing my blade across one of its mandibles, causing it to shriek in pain and cower back. Kili, who until now had been frozen in a sort of dazed stupor, suddenly snapped out of it.

"Behind you!" he yelled. Before I could turn around, my legs were swept out from under me, and I fell hard, hitting my head on a rock. As I lay gasping, the wind knocked out of me, Kili tried to pull me up but only succeeded in pulling me halfway into his lap. My vision was fuzzy, but I vaguely could make out a red-haired warrior fighting off the spiders with amazing agility and grace.

"Throw me a dagger!" Kili yelled as I blinked, my vision going back to normal. "Quick!"

The she-elf ignored him, not noticing when I stood and began running back to the main company, drawing both knives as I ran.

"If you think I'm giving you a weapon, Dwarf, you are mistaken!" As she spoke, she turned and flung her dagger at the spider haunting Kili, which quickly ended it. Suddenly, an arrow embedded itself in the trunk of a tree not two inches from my face, and I stopped running, feeling anger bubbling up inside me as I panted for breath. "Do not move," I heard her say. Without answering, I swung around, lashing out with my knife. She countered, using her other dagger to try and slash across my ribs. With a growl, I jumped back, blocking out everything but the fight. As we continued to fight, I realized how different fighting a fellow elf was as opposed to fighting an orc, or even a man. In those fights, with the exception of several rangers, there was no grace involved; the entire fight was a tangle of lunges, parries, and strikes. Fighting an elf, however, was similar to dancing. Each strike was planned out, and both opponents moved with grace, measuring each blow carefully before dealing it.

Swinging my leg out, I managed to trip the she-elf, but as she landed on her back, I felt the cold, steel tip of an arrow pressed against the back of neck. I froze, breathing heavily as the angry voice of the commanded of the elves reached my ears. "If you move, I will kill you," he growled. The she-elf stood, her face flushed with anger, and she disarmed me, taking my knives, my bow, and my arrows. The elf behind me lowered his bow—I could tell because the arrowhead no longer touched my skin—but traded the bow for a dagger, which he held to my throat. I had a feeling that he thought I was a dwarf—if he knew that I was an elf, he wouldn't be treating me like this. However, I'd rather him think I was a dwarf than a princess; the instant my identity was realized, I was a prisoner. The elf walked me back to the main group and shoved my forward, removing his knife. Fili caught me, whispering a hurried 'Thank you' as Kili joined the group as well. The other dwarves were being disarmed, and I couldn't help but smirk slightly when Fili's turn came. He had so many weapons hidden in various pockets of his clothes that it would be a miracle if everything were found.

However, my smirk quickly turned into a glower as one of the elves turned to me, and I held up my hands. "Nothing for you to take," I growled, glaring at him.

The she-elf and the commander began speaking quietly in Elvish, but I caught their conversation all the same.

_"Are the spiders dead?" _The leader asked.

"_Yes, but more will come," _The she-elf answered. _"They're growing bolder."_

I looked up and choked, freezing, as one of the elves handed the commander Thorin's sword. I didn't even respond to the elf searching me, I was so afraid.

_ "__This is an ancient Elvish blade," _my brother said._ "Forged by my kin." _He turned to Thorin, holding the sword delicately. "Where did you get this?"

"It was given to me," Thorin whispered. Legolas pointed the edge of the sword at Thorin, and I tensed.

"Not just a thief, but a liar as well," he sneered.

"Let us go!" I commanded angrily, striding to the front of the company. The few dwarves that knew my story tried to hold me back, but I shook them off. "We have done nothing wrong," I growled, looking up at the startled face of my brother.

"You are trespassing on the land that belongs to the Woodland Realm and the Elven king Thranduil," he said, narrowing his eyes at me. I recalled my reflection in Beorn's lake, and how much older I appeared now than when we last had met, and I knew I was wasting my chance at remaining undiscovered, but I didn't care.

"Since when has Thranduil prevented weary travellers from passing through the forest?" I asked haughtily.

"You must be young indeed, dwarf, if you do not know the answer to that," he replied. "It has been nearly two centuries since dwarves were allowed on our land."

"I am older than you think," I replied angrily.

"Know your place, dwarf," he snapped. Without thinking, I brought my hand back to strike him, and he grabbed my wrist, holding me in place. The remained of both companies fell silent in shock as the two of us stood, glaring at one another. "How dare you," he snarled, tightening his grip on my arm like a vice. "How dare you attack the prince of the Woodland Realm, dwarf."

I felt the fight drain out of me as I stared into the eyes of the elf who was my brother, and my shoulders slumped under the weight of the anger and hatred and grief in his gaze. _"What happened to you?" _I asked.

Both he and the other elves started when they realized that I could speak elvish, and my brother frowned. _"How—?" _he started. His gaze drifted over to my hand, which he still held, and his scowl deepened. _"How did you come by this?" _he asked angrily. I looked over to see his ring still safely on my finger, and I understood that he thought I had somehow stolen it._"This belonged to me, how did you—?"_

_ "You gave it to me," _I whispered, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. _"Don't you remember?"_

He stared at me in shock, and my heart warmed as recognition flared in his eyes. _"Aeyera?" _he whispered, touching my face and letting go of my wrist. Tears burned my eyes as he pulled me into a bone-crushing hug, one hand in my hair and the other on my back. I gripped him back tighter, burying my face in his chest. _"You're alive," _he whispered shakily. _"Thank Eru, you're alive."_


	7. Chapter 7

Neither of us moved until a sudden thought struck us both. Legolas pulled away, something akin to terror in his gaze. "What are you going here?" he hissed, pulling me a few yards away from the main group, keeping a vice-like grip on my upper arms. "You know better than to come back after what you did! And now you come back in the company of _dwarves_?! What were you thinking?"

I looked up at him with wide eyes, feeling his body shaking nearly as much as my own. "I have to get to Esgaroth," I said softly. "And I was leading the dwarves through the Green—" I gulped, "—through Mirkwood. Spiders attacked us when we strayed from the path, and we encountered each other here. Brother, we have done nothing wrong, please let us pass," I begged.

He hesitated for a moment, looking over at the she-elf behind us. I glanced over to see Tauriel, my dear friend. _"Tauriel," _I whispered, smiling._ "It has been too long, my friend."_

_ "It is good to see you again, Princess," _she said gently, placing a hand on my shoulder. She turned to my brother and leaned in to him, whispering in his ear so that we could hear her but no one else could. _"Legolas, you know the rules of your father," _she said, looking down at me apologetically. _"If we do not bring her in, he will send someone else who will. It is better for your sister to be brought in now so you and I will be responsible for her than for someone else to do so that will lock your sister away forever."_

My brother had gone quite pale, nearly as pale as I had. He looked down at me, sorrow and anger present in his gaze. Sorrow at losing me again, anger for having to listen to our father. _"So be it," _he said. He leaned down for a moment so that his lips brushed my ear as he breathed words so soft I could barely hear them. _"I am sorry," _he whispered. _"But what I am about to do will save your life." _He turned back to the other elves. "Take her," he said, pushing me gently towards the main group. The dwarves were protesting my treatment, the younger ones glaring angrily at my brother and the surrounding elves.

One of the elves tied my arms behind my back, and although I was angry, my rage was not directed at my brother. He did what he had to do, and I would rather he be on my side than be alone. At the same time though, I felt my heart sinking down to my toes; I had all but given myself up on a silver platter, in front of an audience, with no way out. I sighed, my shoulders slumping, hopelessness overtaking me.

As we began marching along, Bofur turned around to face Thorin. "Where's Bilbo?" he whispered, having just enough time to speak before being turned around. Thorin's head jerked up and he looked around, but there was no sign of our hobbit. Hope bloomed in my heart; maybe, just maybe, we had a chance after all.

Kili somehow managed to shoulder his way over to me, and we walked side by side, his comforting hand on my shoulder to make sure I didn't stumble. "Why would you do that?" he asked quietly, brown eyes wide. "You could have gotten away…?"

I smiled softly, bumping my shoulder with his in a friendly manner. "And left you behind?" I questioned, tilting my head a bit. "Never."

He smiled sadly. "Thank you," he said, "For saving me. Again," he added.

I bit my lip, thinking about my promise as we continued our trek through the forest, which seemed to be growing lighter. "It's nothing," I finally said, ignoring the questioning glances from the other elves who seemed to be wondering why my brother hadn't released me. I recognized several of them as some of the elven warriors from that fateful day two centuries before, and from the respectful and ashamed looks they were giving me, I knew they remembered what I had done and both respected me for it and were ashamed of their own actions. It was well known that those who had followed me had been exiled.

Kili's hand squeezed my shoulder gently. "It's not nothing," he said, frowning. "I owe you my life, Princess."

I didn't know what to say, so I remained silent until we exited the trees, walking over a bridge that spanned the Forest River that cut across Mirkwood. _"Close the gates,"_ my brother said to the guards as the company and I were bustled inside.

We were led down to the dungeons of the Woodland Realm, each assigned a cell but for me. Tauriel stood, her hand on my shoulder, as the other dwarves were imprisoned, and I winced at their yells.

"This is not the end of it! Do you hear me?!" Dwalin bellowed, glaring at the guard who was striding away from his cell.

"Let us out of here!" Bofur cried angrily, his smoldering gaze softening for a moment as it landed on me.

The dwarves began throwing themselves against the bars of their cells as Tauriel led me to an overhang above the prison, and I flinched each time their bodies rebounded against the bars.

"Arhhg...again!" Gloin yelled.

Balin, the voice of reason, called out, "Leave it! There is no way out! This is no Orc dungeon. These are the Halls of the Woodland realm. No one leaves here, but by the King's consent."

As I watched, the keeper of the keys let Thorin out of his cell and led him up to where Tauriel and I stood before leading the Dwarf king and I to my father's throne room. I was visibly shaking, terrified, and Thorin placed a comforting hand on my elbow, keeping my body from freezing up. The guards held me back in the shadows as my father spoke to Thorin; I didn't know if he knew I was there yet.

"Some may imagine that a Noble quest is at hand," my father said, a smirk on his ageless face as he paced back and forth beside Thorin, "A Quest to reclaim a homeland and slay a dragon. I myself, suspect a more prosaic motive. Attempted burglary, or something of that ilk," he snarled. He paused and looked down at Thorin, examining him closely. "You have found a way in," he concluded, sounding vaguely surprised, ignoring the glare Thorin sent his way. "You seek that which would bestow upon you the right to rule. The King's Jewel: The Arkenstone." Thorin glanced away. "It is precious to you beyond measure, I understand that," he said, turning and striding back to his throne. "There are gems in the mountain that I too desire. White gems of pure starlight." His voice took on a longing tone. He bowed his head somewhat mockingly, allowing his eyes to droop closed. "I offer you my help," he said, smiling as though Thorin couldn't refuse his offer. My lip curled in disgust.

Thorin smiled wearily. To some it would seem as if he were considering. I knew him to be mocking, and I respected him for it even as my trepidation grew. "I am listening."

"I will let you go, if you but return what is mine," Thranduil said, his voice taking on a menacing tone.

"A favor for a favor," Thorin clarified, turning and striding to the edge of the platform.

I tensed, and my guard tightened his grip on my shoulder, thinking I was going to fight. In reality, I was concerned for Thorin: he and I were similar in that we both had fiery tempers. I knew that if the Elvenking didn't choose his words carefully, Thorin would blow up, sentencing the company and I to an eternity in the dungeons of the Elves.

"You have my word," Thranduil said, lifting his voice. "One King to another."

I closed my eyes, knowing that I would never be free again, but I opened them again as Thorin spoke, my heart swelling with pride at the authoritative tone his voice carried. "I would not trust Thranduil, the great King, to honor his word—should the end of all days be upon us!" Thranduil looked visibly shocked at Thorin's words, and I grinned darkly, glaring at him. It was then I realized how much I truly hated him. "You—lack all honor!" Thorin bellowed, turning around and pointing an accusing finger towards him. "I have seen how you treat your friends! We came to you once, starving, homeless; seeking your help. But you turned your back! You turned away from the suffering of my people and the inferno that destroyed us! _May you die in dragon fire_," he spat in his own language.

Thranduil stepped forward and bent down at the waist so that the two kings stood face to face. "Do not talk to me of dragon fire! I know its wrath and ruin." He closed his eyes, gasping, as burns began to appear on his face, eating away the skin and leaving bone and sinew in its place. He opened his eyes, revealing one to be milky white and blind, as disfigured as the rest of his face. I took a step back, frightened, and my guard didn't stop me; perhaps he was as startled as I was. "I have faced the great serpents of the North." He stepped back, his face becoming perfectly smooth again, but I couldn't shake the memory of his skin dissolving from his skull."I warned your grandfather of what his greed would summon, but he would not listen." Thranduil walked up the steps to his throne. "You are just like him." He motioned for his guards, who grabbed hold of Thorin and held him fast as he struggled against them."Stay here if you will, and rot. A hundred years is a mere blink in a life of an Elf. I'm patient," he said, bending down mockingly. "I can wait."

As he sat down, his words still echoing through the hall, my guard dragged me forward. I couldn't help but wish that I had had my audience first: I now was faced with two hundred years of anger bent towards me, plus the indignation of being called a coward by another king.

"Your Majesty," the guard said, giving me a push. "The princess was found with the dwarves in the woods. She claims to have been leading them through the forest when we captured them."

He looked floored, completely stunned that I stood before him, but his surprise almost instantly gave way to anger. _"She is not a princess," _he bellowed_, "Not anymore."_ He stood from his throne and strode towards me, silver robes rustling. _"How dare you show your face here?" _he spat, sending the guards away. They scurried away, out of sight, and I almost called out for them to stay; I did not want to be alone here_. "After you betrayed your people? You are fortunate that I do not order you to be killed on sight, Traitor!"_

_ "You are the traitor, Father," _I replied, fear creeping into my mind as he moved closer. My voice remained steady even as darkness began to whisper words to my heart. I tried to shake it off; I couldn't lose it, not here_. "Thorin Oakenshield has good reason to hate you; you abandoned his people to death and fire!"_

_"I would not risk my people for his,"_ he spat. _"Does that make me a coward?"_

_ "Yes," _I replied softly. He looked me over, taking in my changed appearance and worn, muddy clothing; a far cry from the small elfling who once danced through these halls in her gossamer gowns and tiara.

_"Why did you come back?" _he asked, turning away from me.

_"To fulfill to the promise I made to protect the dwarves," _I replied softly. I flinched back as he turned around, rage written on his face. At that moment, I felt as helpless as I had in Dol Guldur, and the voices in my head began to grow louder, spurred on by my fear.

_"Even now you continue to act as a traitor!" _he bellowed. _"You would help our enemy?!"_

_ "They are not our enemy, Thranduil!" _I yelled back as he turned his back on me. _"The only ill will among our people come from the seeds you yourself sowed two centuries ago!"_

_ "Do not speak to me like that," _he warned. _"I will give you a chance," _he said suddenly, his voice sickly sweet. I recoiled, taking a step back. _"A chance to gain your freedom."_

_ "I'm listening," _I replied, watching him carefully. My voice was as smooth and cautious as Thorin's had been. I saw Thranduil tense as he mad the connection, but he said nothing yet. His back still was turned to me, but we were close enough that we could touch if one of us were to reach out to the other.

_"Go with the dwarves," _he said, still facing the other way. _"Watch and listen. When the time comes, take what is mine and return it to me. I will forgive your disobedience, and you will be reinstated as Princess of the Greenwood. You will be welcomed home. Think of it: you will have your brother's love again. You will have _my _love and favor once more."_

_ "You would have me lie and steal," _I clarified, disgusted. _"And for what? My brother loves me; I have no need to earn his affection, and you have always hated me. I decline your offer, you coward,"_ I spat, my voice rising to a shout as I switched to the common tongue so that all would hear and understand. "I am no longer loyal to you; I am loyal to Thorin Oakenshield and his kin, and I will never betray them!"

He yelled and swung around, backhanding me so hard I fell back onto the floor, unable to catch myself due to my bound arms. He strode over and kicked me, hard, in the chest. A sharp pain flared up from my ribs, and I wondered if I could have cracked or broken something on the stone. The entire left side of my face stung, and I felt blood trickling down two cuts on my cheek and above my eye. He knelt down and grabbed my chin in an iron grip, lifting my lower body off the ground. _"Do not defy me, Traitor," _he yelled as blood from my split lip trickled down my chin and into my mouth. _"I could have you killed right now!"_

I spat the blood out of my mouth at his feet, feeling a sick satisfaction at the way his face flushed with anger. _"Then kill me," _I growled. _"You coward."_

He grabbed me by my hair and the neck of my tunic and yanked me to my feet, then shoved my forward. I fell down the stairs, landing in a heap on the floor. My chest burned, and I recognized the feel of a broken bone. He followed me down and lifted me up again before shoving me into the arms of one of the guards who had rushed up when the king had begun yelling. This guard gripped me roughly; he was one of those loyal completely to the king. _"Throw her in the dungeon!" _he yelled, watching as I was dragged away. _"Since her alliance lies with dwarves, she will rot with them. I will speak to her later and see if her allegiance changes!"_

Once we reached the dungeon, the guard unlocked one of the cells and threw me inside, locking the door behind me. Strong arms caught me as I fell and lowered me to the ground, and I heard familiar voices asking questions from outside the cell.

"Is she alright?"

"Is she hurt?"

"What did those bastards do to her?" Dwalin bellowed, who apparently had caught sight of me from his cell as I was dragged past.

"Aeyera, are you alright?" Kili asked. I opened my eyes, one of them rapidly swelling shut, to see his concerned face staring down at me. He gently probed the area around my cuts and I hissed in pain, unable to push his hands away because of my bound hands. "_Mahal, _Princess," he whispered, horrified. "I though elves were…"

"Civilized?" I offered, my voice sounding strange because of my split lip. I was having trouble breathing; my ribs were either broken or very badly bruised. I coughed, still trying to regain my breath from my fall down the steps. "Kind? Honorable?"

Kili nodded slowly. "Yes," he whispered.

"Not to traitors," I said softly. I closed my eyes. "Not to me."

He helped sit me against the wall before moving to the door of the cell and looking out. The first elf to walk by was Tauriel, and he stopped her. "Wait!" He called.

She stood still, looking at him curiously. After a moment, her gaze slipped past to me, and the color drained from her face. She hurried to the door and knelt down, looking over at me. "What happened?" she demanded, glaring at Kili as if he was the one who had hurt me.

"I could ask you the same thing," he replied angrily, slamming his fist against the gate. "A guard threw her in here looking like someone had beat her!"

Tauriel looked stunned, and her fair features were paler than usual. "I-I don't—" she stammered, dumbstruck. Clearly she hadn't thought my father would resort to striking me.

"Bring me a cloth and some water, and some bandages," Kili told her, looking back at me. When he turned back to see that the she-elf hadn't moved, he lost his temper. "Please!" he yelled. Her amber gaze flicked up to his face, and she nodded. A second later, she was gone. He knelt down beside me and turned me around, fiddling with the tight knot in the rope.

"I have a knife in my boot," I offered, wincing at the pain in my chest.

He nodded and reached over to my boot, pulled the knife out, then began sawing at my bonds. A moment later, a _snap _sounded through the cell as the ropes fell off. I sagged against the dwarf prince in relief as Tauriel appeared holding what Kili had asked of her. He took them, nodding his thanks, and knelt down with my head in his lap as he began gently washing the blood off my face. I winced as the cloth made contact with the cut and he gripped my hands with his free one, murmuring comforting words to me as he worked.

"Thank you," I whispered. I was exhausted. This place was second only to Dol Guldur in the line of places I hated the most.

"Of course," he answered, his voice tired and angry. "Why would he beat you?" he asked after several minutes. Tauriel had long since disappeared, and we were alone.

"I called him a coward," I said slowly. "He asked me to betray you, I refused. He hit me, and his rings cut my face. I landed on the stone, and I couldn't catch myself because of my bound arms. He—" I swallowed. "He kicked me, then my fa—" I corrected myself. "The Elvenking told me that he could have me killed right then, so I told him to do it, and I spat at him. He threw me down the stairs. After that, he sent me back here."

Kili had sat frozen throughout the story, and his skin had gone completely pale. He looked horrified, more so than when I had told him of my imprisonment in Dol Guldur. "I'm sorry," he said morosely. "I can not imagine any parent treating their child in such a manner, especially their daughter."

"Why a daughter?" I asked as he pressed a bandage against the cut on my cheek, gently smoothing it down.

"Because it is very rare for a daughter to be born of the dwarves," he said. "Less than one third of all dwarves are women, and therefore any dwarf lass is considered a true gem; a treasure."

"What of male children?" I asked curiously as he ran the cloth over my split lip. I tried to think of anything other than the growing pain in my chest; I even attempted to breathe less, but it only made my vision turn black. I bit my lip to keep from crying out as Kili's hand accidentally brushed against the place where my bone was undoubtedly broken.

"Because many dwarf women do not marry," he explained, "it is not often that any dwarflings to be born. But since there are two dwarf lads for every lass, the lasses are protected and hidden from harm more often that the lads, although all children are prized." I nodded in understanding. "This is why I do not understand why your father would treat you so badly."

"I goaded him into it," I groaned, trying to move. When Kili opened his mouth to protest, I shook my head to stop him. "I do not offer this as an excuse for his behavior," I said, "but as one explanation. Another is that the same sickness that seemed to affect Thorin's grandfather affects Thranduil, except that he longs for gems of starlight instead of for gold."

"_Mithril_," Kili said, understanding dawning in his gaze. "True-silver."

I nodded. "Yes."

"That still is no excuse—" Kili began ranting, anger in his voice, but before he could express all his anger, footsteps began echoing through the halls. Moments later my brother appeared with the keeper of the keys, his face pale and drawn.

_"Aeyera,"_ he said, his voice breaking as he motioned for the guard to unlock the door. _"Open it, now!"_

Kili placed his hand protectively on my shoulder, glaring up at my brother. "What?" he growled. "Are you here to beat her too?"

Legolas froze, eyebrows furrowing together. "What are you talking about, Dwarf?"

"I'm talking about your father beating her before throwing her in here!" Kili's voice rose to a shout, and my brother's face turned ashen. His pupils dilated in fear.

"I would never hurt my sister," Legolas whispered. "You have my word. I came to see her because Tauriel said she was hurt."

"Don't touch her," Kili barked, his glare so deadly that my brother nearly left him alone.

"Kili," I whispered, placing my hand on his arm. My chest hurt so badly that I could barely stay awake. "It's okay, he's telling the truth. He would never hurt me." I coughed suddenly, my whole body convulsing as I did so. Tears poured down my cheeks. My chest was on fire, and I cried out as I coughed, struggling to keep from doing so again.

Legolas knelt down beside me as Kili pulled my head back into his lap. He placed his hands on my ribcage, pressing gently on each rib. When he reached the fifth one, I screamed out in pain, lurching backwards into Kili's chest.

"Hold her shoulders," Legolas said to Kili. "Her ribs are broken; I need to set them. Bite on this," he said, pulling an arrow from the quiver on his back. I did so, squeezing my eyes shut and gripping Kili's hand tightly. "Look away," Legolas demanded, glaring at Kili. The young dwarf obeyed as my brother pushed my tunic halfway up my chest, exposing my ribs but not uncovering anything that would otherwise need to remain hidden. "One," he said. "Two—" I turned my head, biting down on the arrow as my brother's fingers pressed down on the bone. "Three!" I shrieked as the bone snapped into place, nearly breaking the arrow apart with my teeth as I arched my back in an attempt to get away. Kili and Legolas held me down, one of the first times an elf and a dwarf had ever worked together. This was repeated twice more, and then my brother wrapped the area around the ribs tightly with bandages, which wound around my back and front, until they were held securely in place. He pulled my tunic back down, covering the bandages once more. "I do not know why the king would do this," my brother said in a menacing tone after my tears had subsided. "He usually is not like this."

"You have been fooled, brother," I gasped out, still gripping Kili's hand tightly. "The man you call Father is a tyrant. He exiled me for trying to save a people from fire. He beat me when I returned on a quest for redemption. And he will keep me here and continue to torture me because he thinks that I will give him what he wants. I will not serve him, Legolas. He knows this, deep down. He will kill me, brother." The two companions remained silent and I lay quiet, drifting in and out of dreams.

After a long time, Tauriel's voice echoed through the prison. "Legolas, your father demands your presence."

My brother stood, unlocked the gate, and then locked it again once he was outside. He tarried for a moment, his hands resting on the bars of the cell. "Do not let her move around," he told Kili. "And under no circumstances do you allow her to leave this cell. I do not want her getting hurt."

"I would die before I let anything happen to her," Kili said, his voice strong and bold and honest.

Legolas searched him for a moment before he nodded, an odd combination of understanding and confusion in his gaze. "I know."


	8. Chapter 8

I lost track of how long we were in the dungeons, but I guessed it had been a week at the least, perhaps two. My time was interrupted at night when Kili slept, when the guards would come and take me to my father for questioning. He would hit me and punch me and put pressure on my ribs until I begged and screamed for him to stop, although he never re-broke them. Kili did not know, and I did not intend to tell him.

Kili had taken my brother's words to heart and did not let me up except when Tauriel came to take me to the washroom. The other dwarves, Kili most of all, were furious. Dwarves at their best are intimidating, and terrifying at their worst; I was glad that they were on my side. Nearly all of them, besides being angry at elves in general for impeding their progress and locking them up, were fuming at the fact that my father had beaten me. Perhaps they would not have been so angered if I had walked away unscathed, but since I was dragged back with three broken ribs, they now harbored a deep hatred for the Elvenking.

If nothing else, it proved that they cared for me, which warmed my heart and gave me great joy: I finally felt that I belonged somewhere; that I had a people whom I cared for and who cared for me. However, the question of 'What happens next?' haunted me. _'What will happen if we reach the mountain? If Erebor is rebuilt, will the dwarves really allow an elf—the daughter of the king who left them to fire—to live with them?' _I immediately dismissed the thought. There was no chance of me living there, even if Erebor was retaken. Even if all the dwarves survived and would allow me to stay, I still could not do it. I needed to make the journey to the Grey Havens; I needed to sail to the Undying Lands.

A small, clear voice in my head continued pestering me. _'But why? What is the _real _reason you have to leave? Just answer the question. Answer it. It's not that hard, Princess, answer the question.'_

"Because I'm afraid!" I burst out suddenly, unable to silence the voice. My ribs ached but were nearly healed because of my elven blood and did not hurt me when I sat up. Kili had fallen asleep, so I sat up against the wall, pulling my legs up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them, resting my chin on my knees. "Because I'm a coward," I croaked, my voice breaking as tears ran down my face. "Because I'm lost, and I don't know what to do anymore!"

I let myself sink into despair. I had been returned to my cell but an hour before, and I ached from being beaten. A parent should never beat their child. I knew that soon my father's guard would be here again to take me away to seek an answer I could not—would not—give. I knew that I would be tortured again and again. I knew that I would never escape, and that I would remain here in agony until the time came that Thranduil decided to kill me. The darkness began to cover my mind, and for the first time I did not resist. I might have been taken by it had Kili not chosen that moment to awaken.

At the moment Kili woke up, the cobwebs of sleep instantly disappearing when he saw that I was sitting up instead of lying on my back. "Aeyera—" he stopped when he realized that I was crying, and he scooted over to me, frowning. In the shadow of the cell he could not see the new bruises that covered my skin. He lay down beside me and gently pulled me down so that my head rested on his chest as I cried. "Lie down, Princess," he murmured, gently lowering me to the ground. One of his arms was around my shoulders, and the other rested over his chest. "What's wrong?" he asked, looking down at me in concern.

"It doesn't matter," I said, burying my head in his shirt. I didn't want to see him; I wanted to tell him what was going on. I wanted him to save me. But I couldn't. Kili would stop at nothing to defend me, and if Thranduil learned how much he meant to me, he would torture him as well.

"Princess," he said sternly. "You are the strongest person I have ever known, next to my family. If you're crying, something has to be wrong."

"It's just… I can't—" I choked. "There's this voice… in my head. I can't get it out, but it's right…"

"What's right?" he asked, confused. "A voice—? I don't understand…?"

"You wouldn't," I said sadly. The fabric muffled my voice, and it restricted my breathing a bit. I didn't care. "Ever since Dol Guldur, there's been a darkness in my mind. Now I feel like it's talking to me, pulling out my deepest fears and displaying them in front of me."

"What do you mean?"

"I—" I stopped. "I just… I'm a coward!" I burst out, my voice muffled by Kili's shirt. I curled into him, feeling his grip around me tighten. "I ran away when I was a child, and I've been running away ever since. I'm still running, and I don't… I don't even know where I'm going!" I was crying very hard by now, my tears soaking the prince's shirt as he pulled me closer to him. My ribs smarted, but I didn't relax.

"Aeyera," he said, "look at me." I looked up at Kili, my vision blurry with tears. I breathed out shakily, feeling the salty drops of liquid roll down my cheeks and onto the stone beneath me. "You are not a coward," he said gently, his voice firm.

"I am," I said, closing my eyes and clenching a handful of his tunic in my fist. "I am a coward."

"No you're not," he said sternly. "Do you know what I see when I look at you?" he suddenly asked. I shook my head, eyes still tightly closed. "I see a strong, beautiful young woman—elf, I mean—who is loyal and brave and true. I see someone who would never give up on her friends and who would give her life to protect those whom she loves. That is what I see. That is who you are. You are not defined by darkness, Aeyera," he said, lifting my chin up with his finger as I opened my eyes. He brushed the wetness off my cheeks, his brown eyes gazing wistfully into my own. "I wish you could see it."

I stared at him, my lips parted slightly. I blinked away the tears in my eyes, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks. "No one's ever spoken to me like that before," I managed, unable to wrench my green eyes from his dark ones.

"I'm telling the truth, you know," he murmured, leaning closer. "I mean every word."

I leaned closer too, my heard beating out a drumroll in my chest. I closed my eyes, and just before our lips touched, I pulled away, turning my head.

"I'm sorry," the blushing prince said, looking away. "I shouldn't have… I didn't mean…"

"It's okay," I said, pulling away to sit against the wall and wincing at the ache in my chest, noting that it wasn't only my ribs that hurt anymore. I couldn't be with him. I couldn't give my father leverage over me. Kili gently placed his hands on my shoulders and moved me back to the ground, not wanting me to reinjure myself.

Kili moved to sit next to the gate and began fiddling with a small, dark stone he had held in his pocket, flipping it into the air and catching it, repeating the same action over and over as he did so. "What is it?" I asked looking over at him. I fixed my eyes on the stone, watching as the dim light of the prison reflected off of it.

"It is a Talisman," he replied, glancing at me. I looked at him curiously, and he continued, a dark look on his face. "A powerful spell is upon it; if any but a dwarf reads the runes on this stone…" he shook his head, closing his eyes. "They will be forever cursed!" He held up the stone as his eyes snapped open, making me jump in surprise. I frowned as he lowered it, a solemn look on his face. I made to turn away, and he spoke again. "Or not," he added. I turned my head to see that the solemn look had faded away, replaced by a kind one. "Depending on whether you believe in that kind of thing. It's just a token," he said, grinning childishly and laughing. I smiled back. "A Rune Stone," he said, looking down at the token cradled in his hands. "My mother gave it to me so I'd remember my promise."

I tilted my head to the side curiously, watching him unblinkingly. "What promise?" I asked.

Kili gazed up at me, looking sad. "That I would come back to her." He paused for a moment, giving my heart time to give a particularly painful throb. "She worries," he explained, tossing the stone into the air. "She thinks I'm reckless," he added, catching the stone and looking over at me innocently.

I raised my eyebrows, trying in vain to hide my smile. "And are you?"

"Nah," he smirked, throwing the stone up. This time it bounced away, and I caught it in my palm before it could fall through a crack. I picked it up gently, lightly running my finger over its smooth surface as I observed the runes cut into the glistening surface.

"Sounds like quite the party they're having up there," he commented, glancing up at the ceiling.

"It is _Mereth Nuin Giliath_; The Feast of Starlight. All light is sacred to the _Eldar_, but the Wood Elves love best the light of the stars," I said wistfully, wishing I could be where I could see the stars again. It had been too long since I had seen the sky. It reminded me of the time I spent in Dol Guldur: two decades in darkness, never once seeing the stars or the sun or the sky.

"I always thought it is a cold light; remote and far away," he said softly, gazing over at me.

I looked curiously back at him, a smile gracing my lips. "It is memory," I said, my voice light and gentle like the glow from the stars I love so much. "Precious and pure." We gazed at each other before I glanced down at the stone, holding it out for him to take. "Like your promise." Kili took the stone, making sure our fingertips brushed as he did so. I looked up at the stone ceiling, remembering. "I have walked there sometimes," I said softly. "Beyond the forest and up into the night. I have seen the world fall away and the white light forever fill the air."

"I saw a fire moon once," Kili told me softly, his face lighting up. "It rose over the pass near Dunland—Huge! Red and gold it was, it filled the sky." I sat up a bit so that I didn't have to crane my neck to see him, and he continued speaking animatedly, eyes alight with the memory of it. "We were an escort for some merchants from Ered Luin; they were trading in silverwork for furs. We took the Greenway south, keeping the mountain to our left, and then it appeared. This huge fire moon lighting our path. I wish I could show you…"

He trailed off for a moment, and I shifted slightly, eager to hear more. "What else have you seen?" I asked, brushing my hair out of my eyes. Because I had been forced to lie down for so long, my hair hung messily around my face, and I had been unable to braid it since the stretching movement made my ribs burn and twist unnaturally.

"Do you need help?" he asked hesitantly, instantly looking like he wished he hadn't said anything. "With your hair, I mean," he said hastily. The dwarves who until now had been speaking quietly among themselves went silent. I wondered at the change but thought little of it, not understanding at the time the gravity of Kili's request.

"Yes," I smiled wearily, "I just… I can't reach it to pull it back." He nodded and moved over so that he sat behind me, cross-legged on the floor. Tentatively, he took several strands of hair next to my face and began braiding them back towards himself, occasionally adding other pieces while he went. "Have you ever seen a star-shower?" I asked, looking straight ahead as he did the same small braid on the other side of my head.

"I haven't," he said, tugging gently on the left braid. "But I'm guessing you have?"

I sighed, a smile crossing my face as I remembered it. "Yes," I said softly, bringing my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. "It was while I was travelling with the rangers. We had just crossed over into Rohan. It had been a long time since we had rested, but we still had a couple days until we reached Edoras, and Arathorn's father, Arador, had given me an urgent message that needed to be delivered to King Folcwineof Rohan."

"King Folcwine?" Kili repeated, confused. "I do not remember that name." He began braiding other small strains together, drawing them all back to my neck.

"That is because the king died two years later," I explained. "His son Fengel now reigns as king over Rohan, and has done so for the past forty-six years." I continued my story, seeing it again in my mind's eye. "It was late, nearing midnight, when we finally stopped. The rangers would take turns taking watch, and Arathorn stayed up with me, since I didn't sleep (I still don't, if I can help it). I was watching the mountains from atop a rock when a flash of light caught my attention. I looked around but didn't see anything else, so I thought I had been imagining it. A moment later, another spark caught my attention, and before long there were scores of stars falling across the sky. Not all at once, mind you," I added, "but in pairs of two or three, crossing each other's paths and disappearing only to be replaced by another, more brighter star." I sighed, relaxing my shoulders. "I'll never forget it," I murmured wistfully. "I only wish I could live to see one again."

"Can't you?" Kili asked, a frown apparent in his voice. His tugging ceased for a moment. I noticed that the dwarves were speaking once again, a chorus of whispers that filled the stone corridors like the sound of a summer breeze through wheat. "You're an elf, aren't you? You of all people—"

"Kili," I stopped him, closing my eyes as he began gently twisting the hair atop my head and bringing it down to my back. "Please don't ask me to talk about this."

"Why not?" he asked, bringing several of the smaller braids up and twisting them in with the larger ones.

I sighed and muttered something about the stubbornness of dwarves, but he wasn't shaken. "Don't ask me something you don't want to hear the answer for," I warned softly, feeling a soft tug near the nape of my neck. "Please."

"What if I do want to hear the answer?" he pushed gently, weaving the remainder of the small braids in with the main pleat, which reached halfway down my back.

"Trust me," I swallowed, my throat dry. "You don't."

He waited quietly for a few moments, before: "You're leaving, aren't you?" My silence was his answer, and I sighed, closing my eyes as he tied off the end of the braid. "Why wouldn't you tell me?" he asked, his voice breaking.

I turned, looking up at him with wide eyes as he stared back down at me with weary brown ones. "I didn't want to hurt you," I whispered, staring back at him sadly.

"Not telling me and leaving would've hurt me more," he said softly.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, horrified to find that I was tearing up even though I had just sobbed into his side minutes before. "I just…" I trailed off, not knowing how to tell him the most important part of my story.

"What?" he asked, scooting closer to me. When I hesitated, he added, "You know you can trust me, don't you?"

"I know," I gasped. My heart beat wildly against my chest, and I was terrified of how my answer would affect him. After a moment of struggle, I blurted out, "I'm dying!" A blanket of silence reigned over the dungeon as Kili stared at me, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, as he processed this new information. The voices outside, which had picked back up as I told Kili my story, had fallen silent again. Tension crackled in the air as Kili opened and closed his mouth several times, resembling a fish. After several minutes, he managed to gasp out, "You _what_?"

"I'm dying," I repeated, my voice cracking. I felt despair crash down on me like a hurricane and I curled in on myself, holding my knees to my chest even tighter than before. "I didn't want to tell you, because—because I didn't want you to get hurt, and—"

"Hey," he said, moving closer to me and wrapping an arm around my shoulders, "I'm not… I'm not mad," he said, choosing his words carefully. "I'm glad you told me. But… you're _dying_? How?"

"You know how!" I wailed into my knees. "I was stabbed my the Morgul blade, and I lost the will to stay in Middle Earth after Arathorn was killed, and—"

"Did you love him?" Kili blurted suddenly. I pulled me head up and turned to look at him incredulously, tear tracks still framing my face.

"Did I—did I love Arathorn?" I clarified, sniffing once at the mention of my old friend. Truly, I loved him, but as a brother and a friend, not the way that Kili clearly thought I did. "No," I said, turning to face the wall. "He was my dear friend, my brother-in-arms for the entire time we fought together, nearly fifty years, but I did not love him. At least not in the romantic way you clearly are thinking of," I added when I glimpsed his flushed face. "It broke my heart when I learned of his passing, though," I said softly. "I had not seen him in ten years, almost, but it still hurt more than you could possibly imagine. The Dúnedain often live to be over a hundred," I explained, "And to have one fall at so young an age…" I shuddered.

"How old was he?" Kili asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

"He was sixty when he died, according to the rangers who were with him," I said softly. "He would be nearly seventy now."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't know how much he meant to you."

I sighed again, very aware of the rapt attention I was receiving from the rest of the company. "I know. You don't have to apologize to me. And as much as it hurt to lose him, I know that it'd hurt more to lose you. That's why I didn't tell you, I thought—I thought you'd hate me."

He touched my jaw with his finger, gently turning me to face him. He face held an expression of disbelief, and his eyes flickered with an emotion I wasn't well acquainted with—love. "I could never hate you," he whispered, moving closer to me. Unlike before, when I shied away from him, I moved closer, letting my eyes drift closed. "I love you," he whispered as our lips touched. After a moment, we both pulled away, gasping; I felt as if I had just been struck by lightning. I touched my lips, which were tingling pleasantly.

We both stared at each other with wide eyes, unsure of what we had just done. A guard walked passed, taking no notice of us. I moved forward, closing the gap between us. Love ignited my heart, and I embraced the feeling, letting it surge through me. "And I you," I murmured, pressing my lips to his as his hand touched my face, the other pressed against the braid in my hair. His lips were soft, and they moved against mine slowly as I tilted my head, one hand resting on his shoulder, the other on his cheek.

"Oi," Dwalin's gruff voice came from the cell next door. "There'd better be some talking in a minute, unless you want me coming in!"

Kili and I pulled apart, blushing, and Kili grinned, his eyes sparkling. "Not a word to Fili," he whispered, "I'd never hear the end of it."

-O-

Several days later, Kili and I were sitting next to each other, telling stories. My ribs had stopped aching, to my relief. Kili grinned at me as he finished giving a detailed description of Thorin's face when he and Fili nearly hit him with an arrow, piercing his shirt with it. I smiled back before a grim thought popped into my head.

"Kili?" I murmured, frowning. He looked up, confused as to why my light mood had disappeared. "What now? What happens when we reach the mountain?" he frowned as I continued, as if the thought hadn't struck him before either. "Thorin will never allow this," I said lowly, staring at the ground, "Us. And if we were to ever have children… your people would never accept someone who is half-elf into the line of Durin."

As far as I knew, I hadn't told him of my inability to bear children, and I hoped I would never have to. Perhaps a miracle would happen and I could have them.

He remained silent for a moment, then spoke, his voice slow as if he were tasting every word before speaking it. "You know, Princess," he said his brows furrowing, "I don't think you're right about that." He looked up, a hopeful glint in his dark eyes. "My people—at least a few of them—know you as the 'Exiled Princess' who risked everything to help our people; they'd respect you. Besides, even if they didn't, it'd be my choice, not Thorin's, and not theirs." He moved closer, wrapping his arm around me and pressing his forehead to mine. "Besides," he added, his voice low. "I chose you a long time ago."

I turned, nuzzling my head into the crook between his shoulder and neck as we sat, curled together, in my father's dungeons. _'This, of course, is assuming we ever get out of here,' _I thought. I didn't speak my thoughts aloud, though; I couldn't bear to extinguish Kili's hope.

Just then, a guard came to the door, Thranduil striding haughtily beside him. Apprehension turned my heart to lead. He knew. I knew from the way his eyes glimmered with malice as they darted between Kili and I that he knew how much I cared for him.

I stood, feeling my legs begin to shake. "What do you want?" I barked, my teeth bared in a snarl.

He observed me lightly, taking in my disheveled appearance. "Why, you didn't tell me you'd made a friend," he said softly.

He watched Kili with his frighteningly light eyes, and I blanched in fear. "Don't touch him," I growled, stepping in front of him. Kili hadn't moved.

"Ah, my dear," he said softly. His tone sent shivers of terror up my spine. I realized then that I feared Azog the Defiler less than I feared the king before me. "I think it's time you say goodbye to him, why don't you?"

"Why don't you get your fairy ass out of here!" Dwalin bellowed from his cell. Kili leapt to his feet and dragged me back behind him, keeping an iron grip on my wrist.

Thranduil ignored him. "Bring her," he said, then turned and headed deeper into the dungeon. It would be worse; somehow today would be so much worse, I could feel it. Another guard appeared seemingly from nowhere and joined the first. As the guard opened the cell, Kili rushed forward, but the second guard slunk in and held a knife to my throat, effectively stopping Kili's fight. The guard shoved him back as the first led me out. Once the cell was locked, they tied my shaking arms behind my back and dragged me down the stone steps, sometimes carrying me as I writhed in an attempt to free myself. I screamed and kicked and did everything I could to escape, but to no avail. The company yelled after me, shouting profanities at the guards and cursing them, but it was in vain. When we reached a room I had never been in—the torture chamber, I supposed—they opened the door and shoved me inside. It was lit with torches, and moisture dripped from the walls. Shackles hung from the ceiling, and a whip hung on its peg, coiled neatly beside several long rods. I pulled away with a cry and tried to run, but the guards held me back.

Thranduil waited there, watching me carefully. The guards pulled my tunic off, much in the way the goblins had where I was not completely uncovered—my breast bindings and bandages remained—but I was very close. The guards half dragged, half carried my squirming form to the walls and chained my wrists there. I was so small that my feel just barely touched the ground, and my arms were stretched to the limit above my head.

_"You know why you are here,"_ Thranduil said, his voice deadly calm. _"And you know what you have to do to leave."_

When I didn't answer, he nodded to one of the guards, who struck me across the back with one of the rods. It made a sharp whistling noise as it flew through the air, and I yelled as it slammed into my skin. I leapt forward, swinging on the chains. I grasped then with my hands, scraping the metal with my nails.

_"Just betray them,"_ he whispered, moving to stand inches away. He leaned down so that our faces almost touched. _"You've done it before."_ His hot, sour breath made me sick. _"You betrayed your family."_

_"You're not my family,"_ I bit out, glaring up at him through bloodshot eyes. I cried out as the pole struck my naked back once more. _"They are more of a family than you ever were!"_ I screamed and clenched my teeth as the bar sliced across my skin thrice more.

_"So you care for them, do you?"_ he questioned. He paced before me, not glancing once at my trembling figure. He nodded. The pole struck me a dozen more times, and I was crying, biting back sobs as my body shook wildly. The chains rattled; they were the only things keeping me from collapsing_. "What if we were to take your cell mate down here?"_ he asked. _"Would the sound of his screams persuade you to obey?"_

I began to shake now out of fear and anger, not just out of pain. My mind clouded. _"I will kill you if you lay a finger on any of them,"_ I gasped out, leaning forward.

He stopped his pacing in front of me and gazed down at me in mock pity, his lower lip sticking out a bit. _"Oh, I'm sure you will. But for now, let's not resort to extreme measures." _

He nodded, and the all-too-familiar whistle of a whip cut through the air. I barely had enough time to tense before it broke through the skin, leaving a bloody welt in its wake. I shrieked and surged forward, stopped by the chains. One of the guards came and held me in place as the other continued. I counted, as I always had, timing the lashes in an attempt to alleviate some of the pain. Thirty-three. He stopped, and the guard unchained me. I fell to the ground, unable to hold myself up.

Thranduil knelt down, being careful to keep his robes out of the blood. _"After today, you will have one more chance,"_ he whispered. _"If you refuse me, you will die."_

He swept out of the room with his two guards, and two others entered right after and wrapped up my back. They knew that if unattended, I would die of infection, and so they always cleaned and wrapped the wounds. I had learned early that although they were my father's men, they partially remained loyal to my brother. At least, these two did. As they pulled the tunic back over my head and tied my wrists together, Thranduil stepped back in. _"I will take her back," _he said authoritatively. The two guards glanced at each other, then at him, and nodded, allowing him to grasp my shoulder and yank me out the door.

He then grasped the rope binding my wrists and used it as a lead rope of sorts to pull me up the corridors and stairs back to the dungeon. He said nothing, but a smirk rested on his lips. When we reached the cells where the company stayed, he glanced around. They had not noticed us yet. _"Which is yours?"_ he mused. I glanced unconsciously at the cell I shared with Kili, and his smirk grew. _"How nice."_ He pulled me forward and I tripped, slamming my knee into the stone. As I struggled to get up, my arms raised over my head, he kneed me in the ribs, and I cried out as he jerked me to my feet. The company's attention was now focused solely on me. Most, like Thorin, were dumbstruck; others, including Dwalin, were not. Thranduil threw open the door of an empty cell beside Kili's, across from Thorin, and shoved me inside. I remained where I fell, shaking, as the door slammed shut and locked. He strode away, straightening his robes. _"One more chance, traitor," _he called over his shoulder. _"Or they all die, starting with the one you love most."_


	9. Chapter 9

_"Aeyera, get up." _

I opened my eyes to see my brother's frantic face hovering outside my cell, and I looked around, startled. It was dark now. As I shifted, the scabs on my back cracked. New blood stained the bandages, and I whimpered in pain.

_ "Get up, __**now**__,"_ Legolas said urgently, opening the door. He knelt beside me and lifted me up, then pulled me out before shutting the door again. Looking around, I realized that it must be the middle of the night, for each and every dwarf was sleeping fitfully; I could hear Bombur's snores from where I stood.

_"What's going on?"_ I asked, pulling uselessly against his grip.

_"The king had asked for you," _he replied, trying to pull me forward. His hand was wrapped around the rope still wrapped around my wrists. The blood drained from my face, and I planted my feet, intent on staying exactly where I was.

_"And you're taking me to him?" _I asked, terror clear in my voice. _"You don't know what he's capable of—he'll kill me!"_

"Aeyera?" Kili's sleepy voice reached my ears, and I tried to move towards him.

Legolas stopped me, a fiercely protective look in his eyes. _"I know what he's capable of," _he said, pulling down the collar of his shirt to reveal a bruise the size of my fist.

My mouth opened and closed a few times as I mouthed silently at him, struck dumb by shock. Somehow, however much he tortured me, I never thought he would strike Legolas. _"That bastard," _I managed, eyes wide. _"Why would he hit you?"_

_ "Probably the same reason he struck you," _he pointed out. _"I stood up to him; told him that he was a coward for attacking you."_

"Aeyera?" Kili's voice was alert, alarmed.

_"And you're taking me to him," _I said, shaking. _"Brother—"_

"Aeyera!" Kili's voice was panicked, and I turned to look at him.

"I'm here," I said, keeping my eyes on his.

"Are you alright?" he asked, moving closer to the door of the cell. "Where are you going?"

"I_-_I do not know." I turned to my brother. _"Where am I going?"_

_ "With me," _he said. _"If I do not take you to him, he will… he might—" _

_ "He will kill me," _I whispered, feeling the blood drain from my face. I backed away, pulling my arm free. My brother stood helplessly, looking lost. _"Legolas, he had taken me and tortured me ever day I have been here." _His face drained completely of color; he might have been staring at a ghost. _"He had sworn to kill me. Please, let me go." _I was crying, pulling against the ropes that restrained me.

_"Where is she?" _The king's furious voice echoed through the halls.

Without a thought, I pulled away and turned towards the dungeon. I began flying down the stairs, ignoring the pain in my back as blood soaked the bandages there.

My brother did not stop me. Panic overwhelmed my mind, so much so that I forgot the layout of the palace. The next thing I knew, I was in the cellars, the basement of the castle. I reached the center of the room and froze, looking around the room with one door.

"No," I murmured, unfreezing. I began dashing around in a panicked daze. "No, no, no!"

A plethora of empty barrels sat heaped together in the center of the floor, not yet ready to be loaded and sent on to Esgaroth. _Esgaroth… _

A small lever caught my eye, and I ran over to it, a memory flickering to life in the back of my mind. I recalled my eldest brother, Maladernil, showing me the lever when I was very young. He had left soon after, and Legolas had been named the heir to the throne, although he did not want it: he wanted his brother to rule, if something had ever happened to Thranduil. Maladernil had since taken up residence in Lothlórien, but I knew he would return to take his place as king if needed.

I wrapped my shaking hands around the handle like he had shown me and yanked it backwards. A creak echoed through the room as a thin crack appeared in the floor. The voices of guards grew louder, and I ran forward. My weight made a large door open in the floor, and as it tilted open, the sound of the rushing of the river filled the room.

Without a second thought, I slid down the ramp, landing with a splash in the icy water. The lashes on my back burned, and I gasped at the pain and at the frigidness of the water. I pulled my knees to my chest in an attempt to keep warm. Treading water, I looked up and behind me in time to see the door close again.

The river pulled at my weak figure, sweeping me away from the palace cellars and into the crisp night air beyond. Struggling was useless; the current was too strong, and I too weak. I allowed the river, swollen from melted snow, to carry me on. Every time I would near a rapid, I would curl into a ball and hold my breath; each time I made it to the surface. Somehow, even with my bound hands, I managed to stay above water. When I reached the elven gate, my brother was waiting for me.

The metal gate shut in from of me, and the force of the river slammed me against the bars. I cried out in pain as my back caught the worst of the blow, and I concentrated on my breathing as a wave of nausea swept over me. Gripping the bars tightly with numb hands, I pulled myself up, hoisting my upper body out of the water. I turned my head around as a splash soaked my back. My brother had jumped into the river, a rope tied around his waist. The current carried him over to where I floated, shivering, and he wrapped his arms around my shaking form, pulling me close to his chest.

_"Pull us up," _he called. The rope began pulling us back out from under the bridge. My eyes drifted shut as I was pulled from the river, and they only opened when another pair of arms gripped my forearms. I opened my eyes to see Tauriel, and I allowed the she-elf to help pull me out of the river. She was careful, avoiding pulling at my wounds.

Once I was on dry ground, I looked around. The other guards at the bridge were some of those I had known before my exile, and they bowed low when I made eye contact with them. One moved and opened the gate blocking the river; it began to flow freely once more. Legolas knelt down beside me and cut the ropes off my wrists, then handed me a knapsack filled with _lembas_, a water skin, my knives, a fresh tunic, leggings, a cloak, and _Athelas_. My bow and quiver were strapped to the back of the sack.

_"Thank you," _I whispered. Legolas nodded, his blue eyes glassy. Tauriel stood and led the others away, giving us privacy.

_"Where will you go?" _he asked, taking my cold hands in his warm ones. I spread my fingers against his hand, watching how our fingers fit together.

_"I do not know," _I answered softly, moving my gaze from our hands to his face. He reminded me so much of our mother, and yet he was more like our father than either of us cared to admit. He was not cruel, though. Neither he nor our older brother was cruel. Legolas and I once stood at a crossroads much like this one, and he chose my father over me. Now we stood at a second crossroads, and I knew that he would be faced with a similar decision now. _"Legolas, I swore to protect them. I can not abandon them now."_

_ "I can not free them," _he warned, understanding whom it was I spoke of. _"You know I can't."_

_ "Then will you protect them?"_ I asked, desperation creeping into my voice. He had to protect them. If my father got to them first… I couldn't bear to think about what might happen. To Thorin, to Balin, to Kili… My heart ached. We sat still for nearly a minute, neither one speaking. Green eyes stared into blue as I silently begged him to do as I asked. Finally I spoke, my voice shaking. _"I'm going to go back if you don't help them."_

His eyes widened as though I had just announced that I was about to waltz into Mordor. I suppose I had, in a way; I would be handed a death sentence whether I went to Mordor or the Elvenking's palace. Now that I thought about it, I probably was receiving a death sentence by leading the dwarves to their mountain. I shook my head. '_Don't think like that,_' I chided myself, ignoring the feeling of relief I felt when I thought it.

_"I will protect them," _he said slowly, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. He chose me, then. He stood, gently pulling me up with him. _"But I can not release them. If they are to escape, they must do it on their own. You must find your own way, as well. Tauriel and I will tell the king that you escaped—how, we do not know—but we can not help you beyond this."_

I nodded. _"I understand."_

Legolas placed his hands on my shoulders, his eyes sparkling sadly in the fading moonlight. I imagined what we might have looked like to one passing by: two timeless figures standing as still as stone in the starlight, a prince and a princess. One light, the other dark. One an heir, the other an exile. One immortal, the other dying.

He bent and hissed my forehead gently, brushing my damp curls away from my face; my braid had come undone in the rapids. _"Goodbye, Princess Aeyera."_

_ "I am not a princess," _I said softly, looking up at him.

_ "You will always be a princess, little sister," _he smiled at me, then stepped back. Tauriel and the other two guards moved to stand behind him. To my astonishment, my brother knelt, bowing his head. The others followed his example. When they stood, my brother nodded at me one last time. _"Goodbye," _he said quietly.

_"I don't want to say goodbye," _I whispered, my throat tight. I was afraid that if I said goodbye, I might never see him again.

_"Then say something else," _he suggested.

_"Something else? Like what?" _I asked, staring over the bridge at him. He thought for a moment before a soft smile graced his features once again.

_"I will miss you until I see you again, sister," _he said.

I repeated the words to myself, allowing a matching smile to touch my lips. _"I will miss you until I see you again, brother," _I whispered, my eyes following his retreating figure until he disappeared beneath the eaves of the Mirkwood.

I turned towards the woods. At the edge, I turned, and a sudden pain stabbed my temple. I fell to my knees, clutching my forehead, as a short verse echoed in my mind.

_"Starlight's daughter leads alone,_

_ Doomed to die for Dwarven throne."_

I blinked, and the pain was gone. The sun had just risen over the mountain to the East, painting it in rich golden light. I stood, shaking the stiffness from my limbs. My clothes and hair were dry. I had been gone for several hours, then. The scabs on my back cracked, and I groaned.

A quick glance over to the bridge revealed that new guards had been stationed there but had not seen me. I pulled the remaining braids along with the rest of my hair and tied it back, allowing a few stray pieces to hang about my face. Swinging my pack over my shoulder, I began moving deeper into the woods.

Twenty yards in, the sound of pounding footsteps stopped me, and I leaped to the nearest tree, scrambling up the truck like a squirrel and, whispering, cursing Thranduil with all the breath in my lungs for wounding me so. No sooner was I safely hidden in the boughs than an orc pack appeared below me. I held my breath, fear gripping my heart. I had the horrible feeling that I had just escaped from my father to die at the hands of this filth, and I was reminded of Gandalf. I smiled wryly as I recalled his words after escaping from the goblin tunnels: "Out of the frying pan, and into the fire."

_'Seems to be quite a recurring thing for me,' _I thought, thinking back to the goblins, spiders, dungeons, and dangers I had faced in the last year. I considered tree jumping away, but I froze as the pack stopped, barely making a sound.

The leader began murmuring to its fellow orc, and I ignored it, having no desire to hear what it had to say.

Seconds later, a new sound reached my ears, bringing with it a new wave of helplessness and horror. An elven horn was blowing, and elves and dwarves were shouting. Ignoring the pack, I began running through the trees, swinging through the canopy until I reached the edge of the forest.

I froze at the bizarre scene before me. The dwarves were each inside a barrel, which were crushed against the gate, trying desperately to escape. Orcs began spilling out of the trees like wasps, firing at anything that moved. I cried out as my kin fell, but I felt my heart leap when Kili's wide brown eyes locked with mine.

An instant later, he had scrambled out of his barrel and onto the bridge, fighting his way to the lever that opened the door. I leaped from the treetop and landed on the bridge, feet from him. "What are you doing?" I yelled, sending a well-aimed arrow into the throat of an orc about to take off an elf's head. I turned to see my brother and Tauriel rush into the clearing, slicing and hacking their way through the crowd.

"We're trapped!" he shot back, blocking a goblin sword that had nearly impaled my midsection. "Get the lever!"

I ducked, traded my bow for my knives, and spun around, slicing through the wrist of a particularly ugly goblin in front of me. "You get it!" I yelled, shoving him out of the way of an axe. "I'll cover you!"

He nodded and began running up the stairs. I followed hot on his heels, slicing through armor and skin and bone like spider webs. Feet from the lever, Kili cried out, and I turned. Bile rose in my throat as Thorin yelled his nephew's name. An arrow stuck out of Kili's leg. He staggered and fell forward onto the lever, trying to pull it down, but slipped off, landing on his back on the stone, face as pale as death.


	10. Chapter 10

"Kili!" I yelled, parrying a blow from an orc sword. The dwarves' shouts grew louder as the orcs began firing arrows at their barrels. The dwarf prince's chest moved rapidly as he moaned, struggling to sit up. "Get out of here!" Even as I said it, I knew there was nowhere to go. A scream tore at my throat as the rusted edge of an orc sword tore through my left bicep. An arrowhead appeared between the orc's eyes a moment later, and it fell into the frothing water to join the barrels.

Turning, my sword arm shaking badly, I saw my brother tearing through the ranks toward me, fire burning in his eyes. Using his presence to my advantage, I crouched down beside Kili and began pushing him towards the edge of the bridge. "Come on," I panted, pushing him towards the ledge. "Fili!" I cried, giving him one last shove. "Catch!" Kili fell into an empty barrel, crying out as the shaft of the arrow caught on the steel edge, wrenching the point through his flesh as it snapped. I stood and instantly was knocked back to the ground as the butt of an axe slammed into my temple. _'Move,' _my mind urged. _'Move now, or you will die.' _With a cry, I leapt off the bridge, landing in the foaming water just as the gate swung open. A hand grasped the hood of my cloak as the barrels were swept away, carrying me with them.

The only thing to do was to hang on. Breathing was a chore, and seeing was impossible. My ribs ached with every laborious breath I took, and the welts covering my back burned. Freezing water slammed into my face as currents tore at my legs; the only thing keeping my head above water was the hand still clutching my cloak, dragging me above the river. I wished desperately to protect them. I hated that I could do nothing to help, but I knew that even if I had my own barrel, my shaking arms could no more hold a bow than they could my sword. After an eternity, the barrels slowed. The only thing I was aware of was the cold. My body shook like a leaf in a storm, the late autumn wind threatening to turn the water on my face and hair to ice.

Thorin's voice came from above me, and I struggled to move as my toes scraped against the loose stones of the riverbed. "Anything behind us?"

Balin answered, "Not that I can see." I forced my eyes open, blinking crystals off my eyelashes. For some reason, none of the dwarves seemed nearly as effected as the cold as I was; I was freezing.

"Are you alright, Princess?" Thorin murmured. I managed to move my head a fraction of an inch, and his expression turned grave.

"I think we've outrun the Orcs," Bofur announced hopefully, splashing around childishly in an attempt to straighten the barrel.

"Not for long," Thorin growled in frustration. He tried to lift me into the barrel but stopped when it tipped over, nearly spilling the dwarf king into the river and dunking my head under the water again. When he came up, sputtering, he raised his voice. "We've lost the current!"

"We're half drowned!" exclaimed Dwalin harshly. "And Aeyera is nearly frozen!"

Thorin glanced down at me as I began pulling weakly at his hands, trying to make him release me. "Make for the shore!"

"Aye," Dwalin agreed, paddling over to the rocks.

"Come on, let's go!"

The company followed Thorin to shore. Thorin, upon reaching the pebbled beach, carefully lifted me from the water, carrying me out of the river and laying me on solid ground. I curled there, shivering, as the king began scanning the rest of the company. My gaze immediately fell on his youngest nephew, and I struggled to stand as he fell to his knees upon exiting the barrel. Pulling himself up so that his back was pressed against the stone, he pressed the hem of his shirt against the wound and hissed in pain. He caught me staring and turned his face away, his gaze darkening. "I'm fine, it's nothing."

"Kili!" Fili rushed to his brother's side, trying to make him uncover the wound.

"On your feet," Thorin commanded, his gaze flickering between Kili and I.

"K-Kili's wounded, his leg n-needs binding," I stammered, making it to his side and collapsing.

"As are you, Princess," Balin said to me, pushing me back to sit against a rock. "She's half frozen and nearly bleeding to death," he added to Thorin. My head throbbed, and I pressed the heel of my palm against it, wincing. "None of that, lass," the old dwarf said, pulling my hand away gently. "Let me take a look." Alarmed, I let my hand fall, starting at the amount of blood that covered it. _ My blood_.

"There's an Orc pack at our tail. We keep moving," Thorin urged angrily.

A whisper of a warning flitted to the forefront of my mind, its message one I had heard a handful of times but never took heed of. _ Dragon sickness. _Could it be possible that the mere thought of the dragon's hoard would prevent the king from saving his own kin?

"To where?" Balin asked irritably, swatting my hand away from my temple as he bound the oozing wound. "Would you hold still?" he scolded. "It's just a scratch."

"It's not that," I whispered. "My back—"

"To the mountain," Bilbo spoke up wistfully. "We're so close."

Balin spoke again, trying off the fabric at my head and moving on to the cut on my arm. "A lake lies between us and that mountain, we have no way of crossing it."

"So then we go around," Bilbo suggested.

"The Orcs will run us down as sure as daylight," Dwalin countered. "We've no weapons to defend ourselves."

Thorin, reluctantly admitting partial defeat, turned to his nephews. "Bind his leg, quickly. You have two minutes."

A yelp escaped me as Balin scrubbed at the nasty looking cut on my arm with a scrap of cloth, and I grit my teeth angrily. _'I've been tortured, stabbed, whipped, beaten, battered, drowned, and have been dragged to death's doorstep and back; why am I crying about a measly scratch?' _

"There," Balin said kindly, trying off the cloth a moment later. "All finished." He turned and caught sight of the back of my tunic, which was soaked in blood, and his face went ashen. A horrible thought entered my head, and my hand shot out and grabbed the old dwarf's wrist before he could speak.

My mouth had gone completely dry. "B-Balin," I stammered, more from fear than from the cold or even the pain. "Is it p-possible that I—" I stopped for a moment, lowering my voice so the others could not hear. "That an elf could lose their ability to heal? Quickly, I mean."

The dwarf looked at me in surprise, shock emanating from him. "I have never heard of such a thing," he said, watching me curiously. "Why do you ask?"

"My back," I spoke softly, so that the dwarf had to sit next to me to hear my words. "He would beat me every day, and last night he had me… he had me flogged." I shuddered, wincing at the pain. "I don't want to slow you down," I thought aloud, watching as Ori tipped over his boot, pouring all the water contained in it back into the river. "If it does not heal soon."

An almost silent creak of a drawn bow sent me to my feet, my bow in my hands a moment later. Dwalin leaped in front of Ori, holding a thick branch, and a gasp escaped from my mouth as an arrow buried itself in the wood. I leapt to my feet, catching the arrow aimed at me as it whizzed past my head. Kili jumped up and reared back, preparing to hurl a stone at the bowman, but it was shot from his hand before he could blink. The bowman's arrows was fitted to both my bow and the man's as the rest of the company leapt to their feet, and I moved to stand between the bowman and the dwarves, my left arm shaking.

"Do it again," the man warned, dark eyes boring into mine as the head of his arrow travelled to point at Kili, "and you're dead."

My lips curled back into a snarl as I glared at the man, recognizing a strong resemblance between him and someone I had once known but could not currently remember.

"Excuse me, but um... you're from Lake-town, if I'm not mistaken?" The man nodded, eyes flitting to Balin. I lowered my bow, afraid that my grip might slip. "That barge over there—" the man glanced over at it. "It wouldn't be available for hire by any chance?"

The man relaxed his hold on the bow and turned, striding towards his ship without another word. The rest of the company rose to follow in his wake. I rushed to help Fili take care of Kili, but he brushed me off.

Hurt and angry, I turned away and stormed over to where Balin now stood across from the bargeman, making sure my pack was still swung over my shoulders. "What makes you think I would help you?"

Balin, who had taken upon the role of the company's representative, answered, "Those boots have seen better days, as has that coat." Bard made no answer but instead began pulling the company's barrels towards the barge, hoisting them onto the deck. "No doubt you have some hungry mouths to feed," persisted Balin. "How many bairns?" Balin's dimpled cheeks glowed as he smiled at the man, who looked over at him, face softening.

"A boy and two girls," he grunted, straightening up. He looked much nicer when he smiled, I noted. More like a father.

Balin continued. "And your wife, I imagine, she's a beauty?"

The man hesitated for a moment, running his fingertips along the rough edges of the barrel before him. "Aye," he answered softly, a lost, longing look entering his eyes. "She was."

Balin's face fell as he realized what he had said. I felt my heart go out to the man before us—despite the fact that he had just tried to kill me—and the feeling that I had met him before strengthened. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

Dwalin interrupted, rolling his eyes. "Oh, come on, come on. Enough with the niceties."

"Dwalin!" I snapped, glowering at the dwarf. He glared back angrily, tension growing.

The man glanced up, looking between the two of us. "What's your hurry?

"What's it to you?" Dwalin shot back. I sighed. Dwarves would never understand the ways of men.

The dark haired man raised his eyebrows and stood tall, staring down the old warrior. "I would like to know who you are, and what you are doing in these lands."

Balin cut his younger brother off, looking innocently at the man with his wide brown eyes. "We are simple merchants from the Blue Mountains, journeying to see our kin in the Iron Hills."

The man looked on with some amusement. "Simple merchants, you say? Then why do you travel with an elf?"

The dwarves looked to me for an answer, and I stepped forward, holding out the man's arrow. "I am their guide," I told him, aware of how my hands still shook with cold and pain. He took the arrow from my outstretched hand with a nod of gratitude. "I was given orders by my—" I nearly choked on the word, and forced myself to spit it out though clenched teeth, "_gracious king_ to guide these dwarves through the Greenwood."

The man, who had noticed the strain involved with speaking the word 'king,' opened his mouth to speak. Undoubtedly he wondered about the bandages covering my body and the blood that even now dripped from my clothing to the dock. Before he could, though, Thorin cut him off. "We need food, supplies, weapons. Can you help us?"

The bowman ignored him, instead tracing the chipped rings around the barrels' edges where the orcs' arrows had bit into them. "I know where these barrels came from."

"What of it?" Thorin answered defensively.

"I don't know what business you had with the elves," the woodman said, glancing at me with a nod. "But I don't think it ended well. No one enters Laketown but by leave of the master. All his wealth comes from trade with the Woodland realm. He would see you in irons before risking the wrath of King Thranduil."

As he spoke, the man hopped into his barge and began to cast off, tossing the rope to Balin. Thorin motioned for someone to persuade the man to help, and I stepped forward.

"I'll wager there are ways to enter that town unseen," I called, sensing the desperation level of the company beginning to rise. I imagined it would only be a matter of moments before they jumped the bargeman and threw him into the lake.

The man nodded in agreement. "Aye. But for that you would need a smuggler."

Balin, ever the negotiator, picked up where I left off. "For which we would pay—double."

This clearly peaked the man's interest, for he paused in his preparations and looked carefully at Balin and I. "Very well," he agreed. "I will speak to you," he nodded to Balin. "And see if we cannot come to an agreement."

The two of them crossed to stand a ways away, speaking low enough that none but I could hear.

"Kili, you were shot; you're clearly not alright."

I turned to see Fili fussing over his younger brother, whose gaze met my own for a moment before he looked away. "I'm fine, Fili," he snapped. "Alright?"

I crossed to stand before him, arms crossed. "What is going on?" I questioned irritably.

"Nothing," he muttered.

"No, it's not nothing," I told him angrily. "You're hurt, apparently in more ways than one." I knelt before him, taking his hand in both of mine. "Please tell me," I whispered.

"Did you think before you left?" he asked, finally meeting my gaze.

I blinked, completely confused. _ 'Before I left? Left where? Mirkwood? Erebor? The Greenwood?'_

He noticed my confusion. "When you left the prison," he clarified softly. "Did you even think about me—" he caught himself. "Us—when you ran away from your brother?"

The meaning of his words became clear, and I blinked as my eyes began to sting, hurt at his implications. "Oh, Kili—" I stopped, searching his face. "Of course I did—I _waited _for you at the bridge—I would never leave you—any of you! Why would you think that?"

"You ran off," he whispered.

"My father asked for me," I replied, shuddering at the feeling of panic and fear that flooded through my body at the thought of being handed over to him. "My brother allowed me to escape."

"Your father asked…" Kili trailed off, eyes wide. For the first time he took in the bloodied clothing I wore and the bruises around my eyes. "Aeyera, I—"

"Aeyera," Balin called. "Come here a moment, please."

With one last look at Kili, I stood and made my way over to Balin and the bargeman. "Now," Balin said pleasantly, holding out his hand to help me onto the rock they stood on—I took it—and moving aside to give me room, "I was telling Master Bard here about our unfortunate set of circumstances; first the disappearing path, then the giant spiders that chased us to the Elvenking's palace. Perhaps you would like to tell him what your king said to you?"

_'Besides disowning me, calling me a traitor, torturing me, and trying to kill me?' _"My king asked me to escort this band of dwarves to Esgaroth," I said, making my voice as high-and-mighty as possible and standing up as tall as I could—which, to be honest, was not that great a height: the man towered over me. "We were ambushed and were forced to ride the barrels down the river; walking would have been too slow."

"What of the arrows and chips in the wood?" Bard asked,

"That would be our trouble," I said stiffly, glaring up at the man. "A pack of orcs attacked us at the bridge, at which point we were forced to enter the barrels."

"You're an elf, though," the bowman replied, glancing me up and down. "Surely you can fight off a few orcs."

"Not on my own," I snapped. "And not wounded. In case you did not notice, I am neither one of the eldest elves in Mirkwood, nor the most skilled."

"Are elves not all immortal?" Bard asked.

"Unless we perish in combat," I answered, ignoring my own plight. "Or from a wound. Or from grief," I acknowledged sadly. "Old age is not reason for us to die. We are born at different times though, just as all creatures are."

"What is your age, then?" he asked curiously.

"I was twenty-six years of age when Erebor fell," I responded sadly. "I watched it burn." Balin looked away.

Bard's eyes widened considerably. "Why would your king send someone so young with a people he is well known to hate?"

"I would not see them wander through Mirkwood alone," I said softly. "And so I became their guide. Besides," I added. "He does not care much for me."

"Alright," he said, nodding. "I believe you. One last request: your name."

"Aeyera," I replied, "Daughter of Aeyleria."

Bard bowed his head, pressing his fist to his chest for a moment. "And I am Bard, son of Girion II."

"Girion?" I repeated, stunned. _'It cannot be.' _"Lord of Dale?"

"Aye," he replied, looking at me sharply. "Though not many remember that name with fondness."

"I knew him, once," I said softly. "He and his son were very kind to me."

"His son Bain," Bard clarified, his voice quiet. I nodded. "That is my family, but Laketown remembers with bitterness the names of our lords, for Girion was unable to kill the dragon the day it first came. He perished in the flames."

I nodded, looking down. I had thought as much, but my heart still ached with the memory of the kind Lord and his son.

"Are you satisfied with her account?" Balin asked, eying Bard closely.

He nodded. "Double?"

"Double," Balin agreed.

"Perhaps you should be the official negotiator," Fili joked, rubbing my shoulders in an attempt to warm me up. I flinched away as the fabric chafed against my wounds, and he stopped. This whole day had turned sour; the pinnacle by far was the boat deciding to buck suddenly as I tried to step on board, sending me into the river a third time. Bard had given me a blanket, and I now sat, shivering, with the rest of the company. "And swimmer."

"S-stop taking," I muttered, teeth chattering. I pulled the blanket tighter around me and tucked my knees to my chest, shaking. A tower of stone and ice rose suddenly from the mist, directly ahead of us. "Watch out!"

Bard maneuvered smoothly around the obstacle, ignoring me.

Thorin turned and glared at the bowman. "What are you trying to do? Drown us?"

"I was born and bred on these waters, Master Dwarf," Bard said calmly, looking down at the dwarf king. "If I wanted to drown you, I would not do it here."

Dwalin growled and turned to the rest of us, his arms crossed. "Oh, I've had enough of this lippy lake-man. I say we throw him over the side and be done with him."

Bilbo huffed, rolling his eyes. "Oh, Bard. He's name's Bard."

Dwalin frowned and looked over at the hobbit distrustfully. "How do you know?"

"Uh... I asked him," Bilbo responded matter-of-factly.

"I don't care what he calls himself, I don't like him," the old warrior barked, sitting down beside his brother.

"Are you sure you're alright, Princess?" Kili asked, settling in beside me. He and his brother were perched on either side of me, the warmth of their bodies driving away the river's chill. I noticed that he still would not meet my eye, and I worried.

I smiled softly, surprised at how easily it came for him. "I am sure, Kili. I am safe." Before I could ask him about his wound, though, Fili cut in.

"Are we, though?" Fili asked under his breath, looking up at Bard. "How do we know he won't betray us?"

I sighed, shifting on the rough wood of the barge. "We don't."

"I'm sorry, Princess," Kili said, staring down at his hands. "I should not have assumed that you would leave us behind. I am sincerely sorry."

Smiling, I carefully bumped his shoulder with mine. "You are forgiven, Prince," I told him softly. A gleam from behind me caught my eye, and I turned my head. My heart leapt into my throat. Without thinking, I stood slowly, afraid that if I moved too quickly I might faint from shock or pain.

The Lonely Mountain rose from the mist, glowing in the golden sunlight. The rest of the dwarves had risen to their feet, gazing longingly to the mountain kingdom of Erebor.

"Bless my beard," Gloin whispered.

"There it is," I whispered, feeling tears prick the corners of my eyes. "Erebor."

Bilbo suddenly cleared his throat warningly, alerting the company to Bard's presence. I tore my gaze away from the mountain to observe the bargeman, who looked afraid. "The money, quick. Give it to me."

"We will pay you when we get our provisions, but not before," Thorin said, crossing his arms.

Bard's panicked look was enough to make me nervous. "If you value your freedom, you'll do as I say. There are guards ahead."

"What must we do?" I asked, glancing at the barely discernable forms of the guards ahead. The mist prevented them from seeing us, but it would not be long before they noticed the extra fifteen persons aboard the ship.

"You, Aeyera, stay here with me," he said. "You can be of use, saying that you came to make sure the barrels came in alright. The rest of you, into the barrels."

"Ssh. What's he doing?" Dwalin's voice came from his barrel, and I tapped it warningly with my foot. Bard had dismounted and was now speaking with some men at the dock too quietly for me to hear, what with the dwarves deciding that being silent was not in their best interest,

"He's talking to someone," I said softly, glancing up from my hands, which I had been carefully pretending to examine. "And… he's pointing right at us," my voice took on a tone of panic. My hands itched to draw my knives. "Now they're shaking hands."

"What?" Came Thorin's disbelieving reply.

"He's selling us out," Dwalin growled furiously.

"Be silent," I hissed, kicking Dwalin's barrel. He growled in response.

I stepped back as Bard approached and began directing the fishermen to drop their catch into the barrels. I prayed that they could not hear the muffled grunts of thirteen disgruntled dwarves and one fishy hobbit; it would not do to be caught now.

Once the fishermen had disembarked, we set sail again. Bard steered the barge through the icy waters towards the man city, and I noticed that his knuckles were white on the pole.

"Aeyera," he said softly. "I don't know if you lied to me or not, but listen. Cover your back with that cloak. Yes, I see your back," he answered in response to my start of surprise. "And we will discuss it later. Act as haughty as you can. Try…" he thought for a moment. "Try and act like a princess." The dwarves began moaning once more, and a few snickered, but Bard quickly put a stop to it. "Quiet! We're approaching the toll gate."

I moved nonchalantly to stand next to Kili's barrel, eyeing the gatekeeper warily as I clasped the cloak around my shoulders. "Halt! Goods inspection. Papers please!" He stepped from the lodging, looking up. "Oh, it's you, Bard!"

"Morning, Percy!" Bard said somewhat cheerfully, glancing warningly in my direction as he stepped forward to speak to the gatekeeper.

"Anything to declare?" Percy asked, glancing curiously at me.

"This is an ambassador from the Woodland Realm," he said. "She has come to ensure the return of the barrels, nothing more."

Percy nodded politely at me, eyes wide, and I nodded my head at him, keeping my expression as serene and peaceful as possible. I had a sneaking suspicion that he had rarely—if ever—seen an elf before. "Other than that?" he asked.

"Nothing, but that I am cold and tired, and ready for home."

Percy chuckled. "You and me both." Bard handed him a slip of paper, which Percy took inside his booth and stamped. "There we are, all in order." As he offered it back to the bowman, however, a hunched, greasy man dressed all in black slunk from the gatehouse, leering.

"Not so fast," he said, snatching the paper away and reading from it. "'Consignment of empty barrels from the Woodland realm,'" he read. He pointed at the barrels, looking up at Bard through dark, gleaming eyes. "Only they're not empty, are they Bard? If I recall correctly, you're licensed as a bargeman. Not..." he picked up a fish from Bombur's barrel and held it up. A jolt of panic swept through me as I met the horrified gaze of the dwarf whose eye had been unveiled. "...a fisherman."

"That's none of your business," Bard growled.

The man smiled. "Wrong. It's the Master's business, which makes it my business."

"Oh, come on, Alfrid," Bard sighed, exasperated. "Have a heart, people need to eat!"

Alfrid shook the fish in his hand. "These fish are illegal," he snapped, throwing it into the lake, where it landed with a _plunk_. "Empty the barrels over the side," he said to one of his followers.

"You heard him, in the canal," the guard snapped to the others. One by one, they boarded the barge, eyeing me warily. My hand inched towards my sword. "Come on. Get a move on!"

The guards began picking up the barrels, shifting them to the side. Bard's worried face sparked anger in me such that I had not felt for quite some time. "That is _enough_!" I bellowed, abandoning my sword and taking up my bow. I nocked an arrow to the string and aimed it at Alfrid. "Step away," I said, somehow keeping my voice steady and controlled. He stepped back, hands in the air. His followers froze. "You leave this man alone, understand?"

"And who are you?" Alfrid asked, leering at me.

"I am Aeyera of the Greenwood, captain of the Elvenking's guard," I snarled, watching with some satisfaction as the slimy man's smirk fell from his face. "My Lord the King sent me to make sure the barrels made it here safely."

"But—Captain—he—" Alfrid struggled to form a coherent thought.

"Is doing as commanded," I finished loftily.

"That does not change that what he is doing is illegal here, _Captain,_" Alfrid continued, leering.

"Come on, Alfrid," Bard said, glaring at the man as the guards began to tip the barrels once again. "Folk in this town are struggling. Times are hard. Food is scarce."

"That's not my problem," the worm said, turning around. I swear, it took every ounce of patience I had not to send my arrow through his skull right then and there.

"And when the people hear the Master is dumping fish back in the lake? When the rioting starts? Will it be your problem then?"

Alfrid froze just as the first fish were dumped from the barrels. He brought his hand up, glaring at me. "Stop!" The guards put the barrels back and walked off the barge. "Ever the people's champion, eh, Bard? Protector of the common folk. You might have their favor now, bargeman, but it won't last." He turned and strode from the barge, eyeing my arrow, which remained trained on him.

"Raise the gate!" Percy called, giving me an approving nod and winking kindly at me.

The guards began to raise the town gate and Bard started to steer the barge through it. Alfrid turned around, glancing at my still drawn bow. "The Master has his eye on you," he called threateningly. "You'll do well to remember, we know where you live."

"It's a small town, Alfrid," Bard called back. I smirked. "Everyone knows where everyone lives."

With that, we sailed past him, continuing through the canals that crisscrossed through the city.

"You did not need to do that, Captain," Bard said finally, leaning heavily against the side of the boat. I glanced over at him, returning my weapons to their rightful place. "Threatening may have worked in Mirkwood, but all it does here is stir up trouble."

"I am no captain," I replied smoothly. "But I decided that choosing a rank considered high by men would grant me favor. I supposed it did not work with him."

"No, I supposed not," he agreed. After a moment or two of relative silence, he spoke again. "I knew I recognized your name from somewhere," he told me.

"Oh yes?" I replied carefully, eyeing the mountain before me. "Where is that?"

"A story my father once told me of a rare meeting between the dwarves, men, and elves of the East. The youngest member, besides my great-grandfather, was an elven princess by the name of Aeyera. I suppose that would be you?"

"I do not know," I replied smoothly. "Perhaps."

"You had better hope Alfrid does not remember your name, Princess," he said, turning down a side canal. "The master does not take kindly to criminals."

"I am not a criminal," I bit out, smiling slightly at the cries of anger from several of the barrels.

"An exile, then," Bard corrected himself. "My mistake."

"I was banished for trying to save the dwarves of Erebor from the dragon Smaug," I snapped, turning on him with my hand on the pommel of my knife. "Does that make me a criminal?"

"To some, perhaps," he said calmly, either ignoring or oblivious to the grip I had on my knife. "Not to me."


	11. Chapter 11

We continued sailing with no conversation until we reached the docks. I helped Bard tie off the boat and then watched as he began tipping the barrels over, spilling the dwarves and fish onto the wooden planks. Knowing how certain dwarves would feel about this, I quickly extracted as many as I could from the barrels before they were tipped over. The ones who were not dumped unceremoniously onto the dock were Balin, Thorin, Kili, and Bilbo.

All of the others fell out of the barrels with a surprised yell, with the exception of Dwalin, who stopped Bard and climbed out himself, grumbling all the while."Get your hands off me," he barked, swinging his leg over the rim.

One curious townsperson watched as we picked our way around the piles of fish, and I gazed curiously at him until Bard noticed my expression. Walking over to him, Bard offered him a coin, saying quietly, "You didn't see them; they were never here. The fish you can have for nothing." The man nodded, looking shocked and grateful. Bard turned back to the company, his gaze lingering on me. "Follow me."

We began sneaking down different alleyways, keeping careful watch on the people around us. In my personal opinion, hiding in plain sight would have worked best—sneaking always seems to rouse suspicion—but Bard seemed to think that running several yards and then hiding behind staircases for several minutes at a time worked best. I decided not to comment. Besides, it gave me a chance to speak to Fili and Kili, which I hadn't had the chance to do in a while.

"How are you faring, Princ—" Fili stopped when he saw my panicked glance in Bard's direction. "Aeyera," he corrected himself.

"I am doing well, Fili," I replied, leaning against a wooden pole. The entire town was made of wood; if anything were to catch fire, the entire town would go up in flames in minutes. Hopefully Smaug never decided to attack; the village would be ashes within an hour, no matter how much water surrounded it. "And you?"

"Honestly?" the golden haired dwarf replied, glancing at his brother. "I've been better. I much preferred Beorn's place to hiding out in barrels full of fish."

I wrinkled my nose. "Yes," I replied seriously, a smile tugging at my lips. "You do all smell something terrible now."

"Well we can't all go around smelling like pine needles and flowers, now can we?" Kili joked. "We dwarves have to tough it out; you elves seem to radiate the 'essence of the forest.'"

Fili looked up. "Is that why you were so sick?"

"Pardon?" I asked, tilting my head to one side. _'Sick? When was I sick?'_

"While travelling through Mirkwood," he clarified, watching me with concern. "You seemed completely out of it. You were very weak, and tired, and we were afraid…" he stopped, looking over at Kili. "We were afraid you were going to die."

"Oh, Fili—" I reached out and hugged the dwarf, surprising him. "It means much to me that you would care so much for my wellbeing. We—elves—reflect the state of our home. In my case, the Green—" I cleared my throat and looked away, focusing on a sizeable chunk of ice floating in the water behind the brothers. "Mirkwood. Because it was sickly, so was I. Elves do not die of sickness, though. Battle and wounds, yes. Heartbreak… most definitely. Not that kind of sickness though; we're stronger than that."

We were briefly interrupted by Bard's beckoning us across the road, but in roughly a minute we had settled down again while the bowman made to check if the coast was clear.

"I saw what happened." Fili said, looking down. I stared at him, startled. "How you protected Kili and were dragged off. And I heard it. The corridors there echo." He shuddered and placed a hand on my shoulder. "I am truly sorry."

I looked down, sighing. "There is nothing for you to be sorry for," I told him. Kili settled down beside me, favoring his right leg.

"He beat you," Fili said angrily, glaring at a knot in the wooden plank beneath his boot as if it had personally offered him offense. "His own _daughter._ That…" He trailed off from the common tongue, muttering furiously in Khuzdul. Bifur turned to him and responded sharply, gesturing to me. The younger dwarf grew silent, nodding at the elder, who, content, turned away.

"I told her already, Fili," Kili said. "I could not understand either. But that justifies her leaving us, right?"

"Kili!" Fili snapped. I flushed, ashamed, and stared down at my feet. He ignored him. At the very least, he didn't apologize to me.

"So that is why you left," Fili decided, tugging absently on one of the braided ends of his mustache. "I thought as much."

"You weren't listening to us earlier when we spoke of the same thing?" I asked, twisting my brother's ring around my finger.

"Nah," he replied, bumping my shoulder playfully with his. He leaned close to me, glancing over to make sure his uncle was busy in conversation. "I decided to give you lovebirds a moment to yourselves."

I choked, unable to find a suitable thing to say, but before I could think of an adequate response, a boy, probably only a couple years away from manhood, ran up to Bard, panting. "Bain?" Bard exclaimed, stepping forward.

"Da', our house! It's being watched."

He turned to look at us, a guilty expression crossing his face. "There is only one way for you to enter the house unseen," he told us. "And you're not going to like it."

"I s-swear," I stammered, "If I n-never have to enter this lake again, it will b-be too soon."

"C'mon Princess," Fili joked from behind me. "Keep swimming."

"S-shut up," I managed, teeth chattering. He chuckled softly and gave me a gentle nudge forward.

Dwalin climbed out of the lake, growling at Bard's son. "If you speak of this to anyone, I'll rip your hands off." I chuckled, my arms shaking as I tried to tread water. "Get off," he muttered, smacking the boy's hand aside. As soon as he had dragged himself out of the toilet, I followed. Fili and Kili gave me a boost up, and I was more than happy to accept Bain's waiting hand. As soon as my feet were on solid ground, I let out a sign of relief. Water wasn't as bad as being on a cliff, but the concept of hanging over an abyss was the same. "Up there," Bain told me, pointing up the stairs with one hand and pulling Bilbo up with another.

A young woman who looked to be the same age as I was—as I _looked_, anyway—stood at the top of the stairs, frowning down at us. "Da', why are there dwarves coming out of our toilet?"

Another girl, who was much younger that the first, jumped up to see us better. "Will they bring us luck?" She asked, wide eyed. She suddenly caught sight of me and covered her mouth, jumping up and down on her toes. "Ooh, look, Sigrid, look!" she exclaimed, eyes lighting up as she pointed at me. "It's an elf! She's so pretty, she looks like a fairy!"

"Hush, Tilda," her older sister scolded gently. "It's rude to point."

"It's q-quite alright," I managed, teeth chattering.

Noticing Bain's dilemma—he was trying—and failing, I might add—to pull Bombur from the lake—I knelt, grabbed the dwarf's arm, and lifted with all my strength. It was just enough to get the poor dwarf over the lid and into the house, although I ended up pinned beneath him. My back scraped the floor, and I ground my teeth together as I tried to extract myself from under him. With Bain's help, he heaved himself to his feet, blushing and apologizing profusely.

"Quite alright," I gasped, taking Kili's outstretched hand and letting him pull me off the ground. Noticing the glare he sent in Bombur's direction, I placed my hand on his arm. "It was an accident," I murmured softly. "I'm fine."

Tilda, noticing how close we stood, spoke up again, watching us curiously. "Are you married?" she asked us, beaming. We stepped away from one another, blushing. Fili strode past, winking at me.

"No!" Kili and I both denied quickly. I for one was thankful that Thorin was not yet in the house: we both would be dead.

"Do you want to get married?" she asked, blue eyes shining. Dimples showed in her cheeks, and she seemed to glow with curiosity and happiness as she looked between us.

"Um… I, uh, well—" Kili seemed to have lost the ability to speak coherently. So had I, for that matter. I opened and closed my mouth like a fish out of water, my face heating up. I was extremely grateful when Sigrid suddenly called Tilda away to fetch some blankets for us. With one last curious look, she ran off.

The moment she was out of sight, I sank to the floor, sitting back on my heels with my head in my hands. _'It was always children. Why children? I can't silence a child like I can an adult…' _I sighed.

"Are you alright, Aeyera?" Thorin asked, sounding worried.

I nodded, feeling the tips of my ears heat up again. "I'm f-fine," I told him, looking up. "Just c-cold."

He offered me his hand. "Let's get you inside; I need to hear what exactly happened today when we departed from Thranduil's palace."

No small feeling of shame hit me at the mention of my actions at the palace; I felt like slinking away and hiding when I thought of what I had done. I nodded mutely and allowed Thorin to steer me up the stairs and into the living room, where he sat me down in between his nephews. I had a feeling he didn't know of my feelings toward one of them; he surely would not approve. Kili rubbed my back as Fili searched for a blanket for me.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Kili asked softly. "Did Thorin hear Tilda?"

"I'm fine. I don't think he heard her, but… he wants me to explain what happened at Thranduil's palace. How we got separated."

His eyes widened as he glanced over at Fili, who sat down beside me, draping the blanket over my shoulders. "Uncle wants to know why she wasn't with us today," he muttered, leaning over me. "How she got out before us."

Fili's blue eyes widened. "He must know it was not her fault," he said, leaning forward as well so the three of us were shielded from any who wished to eavesdrop. "He knows what Thranduil, the bastard, did to her, does he not?"

"I think he does," Kili decided. "You will be fine, Aeyera. Besides, it is unlikely that he will confront you about it here."

Bain suddenly came over to me and offered me my extra pair of clothes, which had been drying in front of the fire. "Thank you," I told him, standing up.

Sigrid offered me the room she and her sister shared to change in, which I gladly accepted. It was no easy task to change, and I had to enlist the young woman's help. To her credit, she did not blanch at the sight of my ruined back, although she started and winced in sympathy. Nor did she question me when I asked her to remain quiet about it. She did help change my bandages, however, even going so far as applying a poultice to the wounds, which burned at first and then soothed them. She helped me dress the wounds, wrapping the bandages around my back whilst I wrapped them around my torso. She then helped me into my clothes with the promise to have my other ones cleaned by morning.

"Thank you," I told her, grasping her hands.

She smiled gently. "Of course," she said softly. She then led me out of her room and into the main room, where all the dwarves sat in a circle. They were silent as I crossed to sit in between Fili and Kili, and Thorin only spoke once I had regained my seat.

Sigrid disappeared out the front door. Bard had gone to the market with his children and would not be back for a while, giving us plenty of time to discuss the day. My stomach clenched, and I thought I might be sick.

"Princess," Thorin said, his icy blue eyes finding mine. "We all are wondering what happened this morning. You were gone when Bilbo found and rescued us. Where were you, and how did you find us at the bridge?"

I remained seated. I feared that if I stood, I might faint. "Most of you know of what my father—what Thranduil did to me," I told them. "After we were captured, he spoke to Thorin. Afterwards he spoke to me. He told me that he would reinstate me as the princess of the Greenwood if I betrayed you and spied on you. When I refused, he slapped me. When I fell, he kicked me and shoved me down the steps, and my ribs broke on the stone. Every day I was there, he would take me from my cell and beat me." I stared down at my hands, which were shaking violently. "Yesterday, it was worse. He had me flogged while he watched. He told me that if I did not give him what he wanted, he would kill you. And then he would kill me. He dragged me back upstairs and threw me in a cell, then left. Last night, my brother came to me, telling me that Thranduil had asked for me. The king struck my brother when he questioned his actions. My brother was going to take me to him but let me go instead. I ran. I was so afraid of being caught by Thranduil, so afraid of being tortured again…" I paused, my heart aching. I had forgotten that most of the company, including Thorin, did not know of my imprisonment and torture at the hands of Azog the Defiler. I continued, pretending not to have slipped up. "I was so afraid he would hurt you to get to me. I am sorry for leaving you behind, but I had no choice. When I reached the cellars, the barrels had not been loaded onto the platform that leads to the river. I exited that way and was swept away by the water. My brother found me at the bridge and promised me he would protect you, and then gave me his blessing. As I left…" I remembered my vision and decided to skip over it, at least until our wizard rejoined us. "I must have passed out, for I woke up just as you reached the bridge. While I helped Kili after he was shot, my brother must have opened the gate. I have been with you ever since."

"Again?" Thorin mused. I cursed the attentiveness of dwarves, closing my eyes. "You were tortured before?"

Kili's hand found mine, resting on top of it. His skin felt hot—too hot—but I thought little of it. "By Azog the Defiler and the Necromancer in Dol Guldur," I said harshly, glaring down at the floor of the house. In response to the shocked silence that filled the room, I looked up into Thorin's eyes, which were wide with shock and pity. "This was worse," my voice broke. "Because it was at the hands of someone who was supposed to love me. Forgive me. I was not eager to face death and torment again." Without receiving permission to leave, I stood and exited the room by way of the window. I climbed hand over hand, hauling my broken body up the side of the house and onto the shingled roof. Finally I made it to the top, where I perched reveling in the knowledge that none could see or speak to me.

I let out a breath I had not meant to hold, feeling shadowed madness creep along the edges of my mind. Oddly enough, the voices seemed to dissipate whenever Kili was around, but any other time they haunted me, dredging up my worst thoughts and memories. I looked out over the town, pulling one leg up so that my arm rested on my left knee while my right leg dangled over the edge of the rooftop. The sun was beginning to set, lighting up the sky and the mountain with streaks of bright golden light. Violet clouds and glimpses of a pale blue sky filled the empty spaces between the gold. _'Perhaps it is a sign,' _I thought wryly. _'A sign that gold does not satisfy.'_

"Let me speak to her, Uncle."

I sighed, leaning back against the shingles of the roof. "What, Fili?" I asked softly as soon as he was seated. I sat up and turned so that we now were side by side, two pairs of legs hanging off the side of the roof.

"You didn't tell me," he said. I chanced a glance at him. He wasn't looking at me, but at Erebor, staring at it sadly.

"What?" I asked, positive I knew the answer.

"About what happened. The…" he didn't seem to want to say the word.

"The torture," I finished for him.

He nodded. "Yes. Did Kili know?"

I closed my eyes. "Yes, he did."

"I was wrong, you know," he told me. I looked over at him again. His blue eyes gleamed in the dying light. He looked so much like his brother, like Kili. "About you, and about him. He loves you, I know that now. And you love him, don't you?" I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. He reached up and touched one of the braids in my hair, one of the few that were left. "Kili gave this to you, didn't he?"

"Yes," I answered, confused. "Why?"

"Hair and beards are important to our people," he told me. "Braids especially. Different ones symbolize different things." He gestured to his own. "For example, I am the crown prince, the eldest brother."

"What—do these mean something, then?" I asked, touching one of the braids in my hair. "They came out in the river, when I fell—Fili, what do they mean?"

"It is not my place to tell you," he said, smiling grimly. It was odd, but Fili reminded me somewhat of a lion. His golden hair, sad eyes, and strong figure added to the image, not to mention his ferocious fighting and undying loyalty to those he cared about.

I suddenly felt the need to tell him what I had been thinking for a long, long time; since I had first seen him at Bilbo's hold in the Shire. "Fili?" I said softly, looking him in the eye. The sun had nearly set by now, and the world around us was cast in shadow. "You will be a great king."

"I'm not the next in line, Princess," he said, chuckling a bit and looking a bit confused. "Thorin is."

"I know that," I said irritably, smiling slightly. "I meant that if and when the time comes for Thorin to step down… you will be a great king, I know it."

His lips curved upward for a moment. "Thank you, Aeyera. For now, though, I am content to be a prince, not a king. Now come," he said, rising slightly. "I believe we were promised weapons, and I had half a mind to spar with you once I retrieve enough blades to do so."

I smiled brightly. We hadn't had a chance to spar since before our ordeal in the Misty Mountains, and I was eager to fight him again. "I look forward to it," I told him honestly. "And perhaps we could finish our throwing lesson? I still am not a master, like you promised."

He chuckled. "Deal. Oh, one more thing—" he leaned over and whispered in my ear, "I know about the kiss."

I blinked, blushing, and crossed my arms over my chest. "What?"

He backtracked quickly. "You're good for him. He's happier when he's with you. Now go talk to him, Princess, since he's too stubborn to let me help him with his leg."

I let out a breathy laugh before ducking inside. Most of the company was spread out on different chairs or, as was more common, in select spots on the floor. Kili was one of those on the ground, and I crossed over to sit beside him, ignoring Fili's wink in my direction.

"You brother is quite wise," I told him, feeling my heart lift at his smile. His injured leg was stretched out before him, and he winced whenever it moved. "Although you are a fool if you think I can not see how much your leg pains you." He frowned. "Please, Kee. Let me help you."

Although he had started when I referred to him as "Kee," he still moved. I like to think that he was going to let me help him, but before he could show me the wound, Thorin entered the room. He looked shaken, for some reason that was unknown to me, but his voice was steady regardless.

He scanned the room, counting the company members. Once he reached fifteen, he cleared his throat. "It is time to go," he told us. "With the exceptions of Bilbo's sword and Aeyera's weapons, we are defenseless. We need weapons, and if the only way to get them is through breaking into Laketown's armory, so be it."

We all stood, some groaning as they stretched their stiff limbs. Kili hissed in pain, leaning against a wall to steady himself and ignoring the concerned looks Fili and I sent his way.

Bilbo passed me my sack. "I don't think we'll be back," he said. "So I packed your things for you."

I took the bag gratefully and slung it over my shoulders, thankful for its familiar weight even as I winced as it rubbed against my back. "Thank you, Bilbo," I said, smiling gently at him.

We followed Thorin out the door, pushing past Bain, who tried in vain to prevent us from leaving. I gave him a regretful half smile as I passed him, truly sorry for leaving so abruptly. However, I had made a promise, one that I intended to keep: to protect Thorin and his family. Though if Thorin continued to risk his life for something as silly as a sword, I might change the deal to simply protecting his nephews.

"Shh! Keep it down," Dwalin hissed. Ori and Nori ceased their whispering as Dwalin turned his angry glare on them.

"As soon as we have the weapons, we'll head straight for the mountain," Thorin whispered. He held out his hand, stopping us in our tracks. "We're here."

Most of the dwarves rushed forward and dropped to their hands and knees, forming a sort of staircase with their bodies. Thorin gestured to the pile and to the closed window, turning to me. "Ladies first."

Giving him an exasperated glare, I ran up the dwarvish stairs as lightly as I could, pausing at the top to slip my knife through the crack in the shutters and lift the latch. Once it was done, I opened the window and climbed through. I was in.

It was late now; however, to my eyes it was barely dusk. Even in Mirkwood I could see, which was saying something. Thorin's hoarse whisper came from below. "Go, go, go!"

After several seconds of grunts from the dwarvish stairs, Nori's head appeared at the windowsill, and I pulled him in. Thorin's voice again came out of the darkness. "Next!"

In this way, I soon found myself raiding the armory with Bilbo, Thorin, Kili, and Nori. We rushed around as quickly as we dared. Thorin, I noticed, was making Kili hold the weapons. How he managed to make it up here, I did not know, but I could see the strain on his now pale face as Thorin added another sword to the pile.

"You alright?"

Kili shifted the pile of weapons. Had his uncle had my sight, he would not have allowed his nephew to come here at all. However, he did not. Nor did he notice the sweat dripping from Kili's brow. I did. I also noticed the way his leg shook as if it was about to buckle beneath him. I began to rush toward him, heart racing. "I can manage. Let's just get out of here."

I reached him right as he came to the edge of the stairs, somehow ending up in front of him. I grabbed his arm to steady him. Right as reached the top of the stairs, his injured leg buckled, causing him to plow into me and send both us and the weapons crashing down the stairwell. The noise was enough to wake the entirety of Laketown, but it was the last thing I was worried about. Oh, no. I was worried about one thing: Kili, whose skin was chalk white.

"Kili?" I breathed, touching his face. "Kili!"

He had landed on top of me, so I could not move when a group of guards appeared, weapons drawn and ready for use. One of the soldiers held a knife to Kili's throat, and I froze.

"Run!" I heard one of the dwarves outside yell. A mad scrambling ensued, and then stopped. I could only guess that they had been captured.

I gripped Kili's hand tightly, and he gripped back tighter. I felt fear ensnare my heart again, fear of capture, of torture. "Aeyera." I looked at him. He looked guilty and sad and afraid, but also strong. "I'll protect you, I promise. I will never let anything happen to you. I will not let you die."

The guards rushed forward and tore us apart. One yanked my arms behind my back, tying my wrists together. I yelled as they twisted my shoulders back roughly, grinding my teeth together against the pain. Thankfully though, they did not remove my weapons or my pack. I struggled as if for my life, and I heard him repeat his words as I gasped for air like one who was drowning. "I promise."

And suddenly the weight of the world was on my shoulders.


	12. Chapter 12

I fought like someone on death's door, such that the guards actually threatened to kill one of the dwarves if I continued. I refrained from breaking his neck, barely, but it still took three men to drag me along. They led us to the town square, where most of the town had gathered with torches. It had begun to snow; white flakes drifted from the sky and alighted on hair, beards, and cloth, shining like diamonds in the firelight. The Master stood outside his home, dressed in luxurious robes that were incredibly out of place and looked quite ridiculous on him.

The Master, a large man with rouge upon his cheeks and a few long, dyed strands of flyaway hair brushed over his otherwise bald head, looked furious. He stepped forward, trying his robe shut. "What is the meaning of this?"

The captain of the guard stepped forward, gesturing to us. "We caught 'em stealing weapons, Sire."

The Master looked down his nose at us, and I glared at him, snarling. He and the guard who had threatened the lives of the company; they were fortunate that my hands were bound. "Ah! Enemies of the state, eh?"

"A desperate bunch of mercenaries, if ever there was, Sire," Alfrid said, sneering at me. A flicker of recognition crossed his face, but before he could speak, Dwalin interrupted.

"Hold your tongue!" Dwalin wrenched free of the guards holding him, glaring up at the Master and stepping closer to him. "You do not know to whom you speak. This is no common criminal!" Dwalin turned, looking at all the people gathered in the square. "This is Thorin. Son of Thráin, son of Thrór!"

Thorin stepped out of the crowd to stand next to Dwalin. "We are the dwarves of Erebor. We have come to reclaim our homeland." The people began to murmur amongst themselves, staring in disbelief at the company. "I remember this town in the great days of old," Thorin continued, lost in a reverie. "Fleets of boats lay at harbor, filled with silks and fine gems. This was no forsaken town on a lake. This was the center of all trade in the north!" He turned to face the people gathered around us, spreading wide his arms and speaking with such conviction that I myself felt elation building in my own chest, joining the terror there. I suddenly noticed an ache in my side, and I shifted, confused. "I would see those days return. I would relight the great forges of the dwarves and send wealth and riches flowing once more from the halls of Erebor!"

The crowd began to cheer, and suddenly a chill swept through me as a stabbing pain from a wound long forgotten hit me like a battering ram. I collapsed to my knees, the guards no longer holding me up. A thought entered my mind: "Gold sickness." I knew that the instant Thorin entered the mountain, he would be overwhelmed and consumed by it.

Now, though, I was concerned by something else. The Morgul wound in my side ached. It was the anniversary of the wound. At least, the day after tomorrow was. _'Durin's Day'_, I realized grimly. _'How unfortunately appropriate.'_

As Gloin and Ori pulled me to my feet, Bard burst into the center of the crowd, eyes wild. "Death! That is what you'll bring upon us." He pushed through the last few people barring his way until he stood before us all, facing Thorin. He strode forward until they were feet from each other, still speaking loudly. "Dragonfire and ruin. If you awaken that beast, it will destroy us all."

Thorin spoke over Bard, his voice awakening the dreams of every soul here who had forever wished to be something more. "You can listen to this naysayer, but I promise you this: if we succeed, all will share in the wealth of the mountain." The crowd looked immensely pleased and began to smile. "You will have enough gold to rebuild Esgaroth ten times over!"

The crowd cheered. Bard turned to face them, his desperation evident. "All of you! Listen to me—you must listen!" They quieted, curious. "Have you forgotten what happened to Dale? Have you forgotten those who died in the firestorm? And for what purpose?" I watched through a red haze as the faces of the townspeople fell, each remembering stories of family members lost and the devastation the dragon wreaked upon the once mighty city of Dale. The bowman turned to face Thorin, pointing at him, his face twisted with an emotion I did not recognize. "The blind ambition of a Mountain King, so driven by greed, he could not see beyond his own desire!"

I could not tell who I would have sided with if given a choice. Luckily, I was not. The Master of Laketown stepped up, looking pompous. "Now, now. We must not, any of us, be too quick to lay blame." He oozed wealth, captivating the audience. I wished I had been well enough to shoot him, but I was too weak, physically, mentally, and morally. "Let us not forget, that it was Girion, Lord of Dale, _your_ ancestor, who failed to kill the beast. Hm!?"

Alfrid stepped up. "It's true, Sire. We all know the story!" He stepped up, flapping his arms dramatically, gaining the attention of the townspeople once again. Bard looked angry but did not keep him from speaking. He looked almost ashamed. "Arrow after arrow, he shot. Each one missing its mark."

He sneered at Bard, and I stumbled forward, the haze clearing for a moment. I leaned on Dwalin's shoulder, and he gripped my elbow to balance me. My voice came out steady and filled with loathing. "You make it sound like killing a dragon is easy, Alfrid," I spat, eyes narrowed. "Perhaps we should send you to the mountain with a bow and see how you fare against it?"

Many of the townspeople laughed as he flushed, backing away. Bard took a step closer to Thorin, speaking quieter than before. "You have no right. No right to enter that mountain."

Thorin looked up at him solemnly, his face impassive. "I have the only right."

Grief filled me as he spoke, and suddenly the lines from the prophecy I had had the night before came to mind. _'Starlight's daughter leads alone, Doomed to die for Dwarven throne.'_

_ 'Starlight's daughter…' _Most likely me; my mother's constellation shone above me where I stood._ 'Leads alone?' _I am no leader, unless it meant that I would stand for someone or something no one else would…_ 'Doomed to die for Dwarven throne.'_ I decided that it spoke of those who would rule, and not simply for the throne itself. _'But would that be Thorin? Fili? ... Kili? All of them?!' _No. I would not let that happen. I would not let my vision come true.

Thorin spoke again, this time addressing the Master directly. "I speak to the Master of the men of the lake. Will you see the prophecy fulfilled? Will you share in the great wealth of our people?" The Master hesitated, but I could see the light of greed that shone in his eyes, added to the fact that he could not decline without starting a riot. "What say you?" Thorin barked.

"I say unto you... Welcome!" He smiled, displaying browned, crooked teeth. "Welcome and rise! Welcome, King Under the Mountain!"

The crowd began to cheer, and Bard turned, walking away. I stopped him, placing my hand on his arm. "Wait—"

"It is over," he said softly to me. "I thank you for your help: you are welcome in my home anytime. However, your friends are fools for befriending the Master of this town. He is a snake."

"I know. Is there no way of fixing this?" I wanted to know.

"No. Your king is blind and is as foolish as his grandfather, not seeing his greed. Farewell, Princess." I started at the use of my title, and he cracked a smile as we were jostled by the crowd. "Aeyera is not a common name, my lady." He bent at the waist, bowing. "I wish you good fortune on your journey."

My throat closed as I nodded, bowing back. "I thank you, Bard, son of Girion, Lord of Dale."

His face clouded. "Do not call me that."

"A wise dwarf once told me that one cannot give away one's title, no matter how far they run from it. It is yours by birth, bowman."

He looked doubtful but nodded slowly. "Perhaps, but it is only a name."

"Names have power," I reminded him. He shrugged. "I bid you goodnight," I told him. "Go home to your children. And if something happens…" I trailed off, looking him dead in the eye. "Get your family out of here."

He blinked, and then he was gone. I turned. The first set of eyes I met was that of Thorin, who looked pleased with himself and who had evidently not noticed me speaking with Bard.

"Aeyera." I turned and met the blue-eyed gaze of the crown prince.

"Fili," I greeted, not sure how to continue. Snowflakes glinted on his hair and beard, leaving tiny droplets of water when they melted. His figure shone because of the snow, making him look as though he had been doused in miniscule jewels.

"You fell." It was neither a question nor a statement; he clearly wanted an explanation. One that I did not plan on giving in the middle of a crowded square while my old wound throbbed with every beat of my heart.

"Yes."

"Fili! Aeyera!" We both turned to see Thorin beckoning to us. "Come! We are to sleep here tonight." The crowd began to thin, the excitement dissipating. We followed the king inside with the rest of the company. Alfrid glared at me as I passed, my head held high. I looked over at him disdainfully, my hand moving to rest on the pommel of my sword. He noticed and drifted away, leading us down the hall.

We were led to a dining hall of sorts. I suppose that it was alright, by human standards—although it would be considered pitiful by the standards of most races besides their own—it was small with a single, long table upon which sat several barrels of mulled wine and beer, which seemed to raise the spirits of many in the company.

I sat with Fili and Kili, who watched the festivities but did not participate other than to eat. Kili because he felt ill—understandable, he was as white as a sheet—and did not want to show it by vomiting. Fili because he did not wish to have a hangover the next morning—I decided that this was a lie, dwarves get drunk about as easily as elves do—although I suspected he really just wished to speak to Kili and I. And I because I did not feel as if we had much to celebrate: we had insulted the one truly honorable man in the town and were now relying on the Master, who frankly disgusted me.

"May we speak?" Fili asked, speaking up to be heard over the clamor of the rest of the company. I nodded. The three of us rose to our feet—Kili and I with some difficulty—and left the room, ending up in one of the bedchambers being lent to us for the night. We settled on the floor beside the lit fireplace, enjoying the soft pelts laid out on the floor to make it more comfortable.

"Why did you fall?" Fili asked again. Kili looked up, his dark eyes reflecting the red light of the fire back at me.

In answer, I pulled up the edge of my tunic to reveal my stab wound, which, I was alarmed to see, was nearly black. The veins around it were back as well, so my skin looked to be crisscrossed with pitch-like spider webs. "Mahal," Fili breathed, eyes wide.

"Aeyera, is that—?" Kili couldn't seem to finish the thought. He just stared, horrified, at the veins that crept along beneath my skin, poisoning my blood.

"Yes," I whispered, placing a finger to my skin. It felt hot, worse than it had ever felt before—besides, of course, the original wound—and was slightly swollen. "I was stabbed by a Morgul blade in my youth," I tried to clarify for Fili. "It never truly healed." A flash of—something?—crossed Kili's face. "Kili?"

"Hm?" His eyes were darkened by pain; his whole body was wracked by it.

"Let me see your leg," I demanded, a feeling of panic bubbling up in me. I knew that in less than twenty four hours, I would be unable to move or think, and I needed to do as much as I could in that time.

"Aeyera, what's wrong?" Fili asked, looking alarmed. He seemed to have momentarily forgotten about his brother's wound in his hurry to understand mine, so I reminded him, my voice rising hysterically. "Kili was shot—by an _arrow_. Kili, do you have the arrow?"

He looked confused. Despite the heat from the fire, he shivered as if outside on the ice. "No, the shaft snapped off when I fell."

"What of the arrowhead?" I asked, dread twisting my insides. "Where is it?"

"I don't know," he said, looking pained and guilty. "Still in my leg, I suppose."

My shriek could have been heard in the Elvenking's palace; I was fairly certain that the voices below us quieted for a moment. _"What?!_"

"Princess!" Fili exclaimed with no undue measure of alarm. "What is wrong?"

I placed my head in my hands. "A Morgul shaft," I murmured, horrified. "You were hit by a Morgul shaft."

"Hey, hey—" Fili shook me slightly, clearly unnerves by my loss of composure. "You don't know that. He could just be sick!"

"Let me see the wound, then!" I snapped. Fili drew back. I often forgot they were royalty; that I shouldn't be speaking to him that way. Then again, so was I. I suppose we stood on even ground, then.

"Princess." The three of us turned to see Dwalin standing in the doorway, looking angry. "That sniveling fellow, Alfrid—he told the Master of Laketown who you are." Ice coated my stomach, making me want to vomit. "He wishes to speak to you."

"No," I answered, surprising even myself with my boldness.

"Yes," Thorin replied sharply, appearing behind the old warrior. "If you refuse, the Master may decide against helping us."

"If I agree," I countered, "I may end up dead, whether by the Master's hand or by Thranduil."

"You really think that we will allow that to happen?" Thorin asked seriously, raising a dark eyebrow.

_'Yes.'_

"I do not think they will allow you a say in the matter." Every fiber of my being itched to run, to fly out the window and be free of my name, which was a curse in and of itself. Forget the Morgul wound—I might not live long enough for it to take my life.

"Come on," Thorin said, stepping aside for me. "We must make haste." I stumbled, catching my balance on the doorframe. The pain was intense, but not nearly as bad as I knew it would grow to be. At this rate, the flogging I received would be akin to an embrace compared to the agony I knew I would face. "Are you alright?"

I nodded, feeling sweat beginning to bead on my forehead despite the sudden chill of a breeze that had found its way through the cracks into the wooden 'palace'. Thorin led the way to the Master's study, where the fat man sat drinking a brandy. My nose wrinkled with disgust and Dwalin looked upon him with obvious distaste. Thorin was the only one who kept his face emotionless and unreadable.

"We are here," he told the man. It was obvious to me that he hated being an errand boy—he would sooner be roasted by Smaug than bow to someone as weak as this coward before us. He made this clear in his body language as he stood protectively beside me, arms crossed, even when it was clear that the man wished for he and Dwalin to leave.

"So I hear that you are Aeyera," the man said, rising with difficulty from his chair. "_Princess _of the Greenwood. Am I correct?"

"For the most part," I responded, glowering at him. He looked me up and down, much to my obvious displeasure. As his eyes roved over my body, I made an obvious show of placing both hands on my sword, which was enough to make his eyes dart make to my face.

"And yet you are here?" He asked, his eyes not daring to stray again. "In the company of dwarves."

_"My father does not dictate my actions, worm," _I spat in my own tongue. Thankfully, he did not speak Elvish, although I heard a snort of laughter from Dwalin. I was surprised; I did not think he would know my language. In the common tongue, I spoke again. "That is the message he sent," I replied. "I am to guide them to the mountain in exchange for mithril and the starlit gems that are my people's legacy." Switching to my own tongue, I spoke to Dwalin. _"Tell Thorin not to worry, I am telling him only what he wishes to hear."_

"Why do you switch tongues?" The master asked irritably, eyes darting from Dwalin's to Thorin's to mine.

"Do I?" I asked, feigning surprise and concentration. I could hear Dwalin speaking softly to Thorin in Khuzdul, translating my words to him. "I apologize, I am unused to speaking the common tongue; I suppose it slipped my mind."

He sniffed. "No matter. You may return to your room." I bowed mockingly, my wounds stretching painfully, and then left, Thorin and Dwalin behind me. Thankfully, the man had forgotten to finish his conversation, being distracted by the changing languages.

"You understand Elvish?" I asked Dwalin curiously as we travelled up the stairs to our rooms. Most of the dwarves had retired, although Bofur still sat in the main room, drinking.

"Aye. I figured that understanding an enemy would be better than having no idea to what's going on. It served me well while in Mirkwood. As it was, I was the first to figure out who that blonde elvish warrior was. It wasn't until later that I told the rest of them that he was your brother, the prince."

I nodded, pressing the heel of my hand against my side. "I see."

"Sleep well," Thorin interrupted, pointing to the door Kili and Fili were behind when last I saw them. "We leave early tomorrow."

I nodded and went inside. Thorin most definitely did not know about Kili and I, if he would willingly allow he and I to stay in the same room together. Fili was awake when I opened the door.

"You're alive," he said dryly.

I let out a breath of laughter and crossed to an empty bed, stretching out on it. "I suppose I am."

_'For now.'_

"Kili was worried," he continued, staring into the fire. "So was I, actually."

I sighed. "Fili—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You can take care of yourself, you're stronger than you look, etc. But you're not invincible, you know. It's odd, but you've become like a little sister to me."

"I'm older than you by a century," I pointed out, rubbing the scar as it gave a particularly nasty throb.

"Age is but a number," he retorted. "And you look younger than you really are. Who knows—you might end up being my sister one day anyway. The point is—You're not invincible, so stop acting like it. We care about you, and we would gladly die for you. So stop getting into trouble, alright?"

"Alright," I said softly, humbled. "Fili?"

"Hm?" He was stretched out in front of the fire, arms crossed over his chest.

"You're a good friend."

He smiled, the braids of his mustache lifting. "That I am. Goodnight, princess."

"Goodnight, Prince."


	13. Chapter 13

I was more than a little surprised when I woke up the next morning, seeing as how I rarely slept. Pale sunlight streamed through the window, lighting up the otherwise dreary chamber. The room was freezing; the fire must have died out sometime during the night.

I made to sit up, forgetting momentarily about my wound. The instant I moved, a fiery streak of agony rushed through me. I fell back, convulsing. "Aeyera?" Someone called my name, but I could barely make sense of it. Somewhere I knew that the pain from the wound would not be at its peak until the following night, but I still twisted and turned, trying to escape it. "Aeyera!"

Through the pain, only one thought stayed, and I voiced it, my voice a scream. "_Kill me!_"

I felt strong hands pin me down, preventing me from moving. I still tried, but my efforts were useless. Slowly, I came back to myself, the pain fading to a—barely—bearable ache. My back began to throb, the scabs having reopened in my struggle. Looking up, I saw Fili and Kili standing above me. Both brothers were pale, eyes wide. Concern and fear hit me like a lightning strike as soon as I focused on the youngest. Yes, he was pale, but not only from concern or fear. His skin was sweaty and gray, and dark circles ringed his eyes. With his dark hair and pale skin, he looked more dead than alive.

"Aeyera," Kili said, his voice much weaker than normal. "What…?"

"Tomorrow is Durin's Day," I said, blinking up at the ceiling. I could hear the dwarves eating breakfast and making a ton of noise, which is probably why none had raced upstairs to help me after I had begun begging for death. I winced at the thought, ashamed that the two I cared most about in the world—other than my brother—had seen me in such a state. "The anniversary of my being stabbed by a Morgul Blade. Did I not explain this yesterday?"

"You did," he grunted, pulling himself to his feet. I stood slowly, surveying them. Kili and his brother both wore armor over their new tunics, and both had swords strapped to their belts or backs. Kili had a bow and quiver of arrows slung across his back, and I could spot several daggers hidden in various places on Fili's person. "It's time," he said.

"Here," Fili said, holding out an apple. "You missed breakfast." I took it hesitantly, my stomach roiling. To appease the princes, I took a bite, forcing myself to keep it down when I swallowed. They nodded, evidently satisfied, and left the room.

As soon as they left, I sank back against the bed, gripping one of the posts for support. I knew that I would be fully incapacitated by nightfall and would remain so until the next day, if not sooner, and that if Thorin saw this, I would not be permitted to go. I had to go; I had to uphold my promise to keep the line of Durin safe.

Groaning, I stood, my knees shaking. I shrugged a leather corset of sorts over my tunic. The next minute I spent lacing it up; it was as close as could come to armor for someone my size on such short notice. Tying my bracers on and donning my cloak were easy, but pulling my bow and quiver over my shoulder was impossible. I tied them to my pack instead, feeling nervous about how, should anything happen, I would be unable to reach them. I attached my knives to my belt along with my sword; there was no way I could reach over my head to grab them should a fight break out. Finally, I pulled on my cloak and my pack and descended down the staircase.

Fili and Kili waited for me, following me outside. I walked with a limp, trying to alleviate the pressure on the injured side of my body.

All of Laketown had emptied to watch us depart; the people lined the canals, cheering and waving. Many threw flowers and streamers; where they got them, I did not know. "All hail the King Under the Mountain!" One man yelled. A roar of noise drowned out anything else he might have said.

When we reached the dock, I could see that most of the company already waited there for us. I counted, frowning. We were one short. Bilbo voiced my thoughts to Thorin, shouting to be heard over the crowd's racket. "You do know we're one short? Where's Bofur?"

"If he's not here, we leave him behind."

I paled. We could not leave anyone behind, not here. Not where the Master lurked and plotted. Balin saw my horrified expression and leaned forward. "We'll have to, if we're to find the door before nightfall tomorrow. We can risk no more delays."

We began boarding the barge. I kept one hand pressed against my side, determined to keep anyone from noticing the wound. _'What if Thorin notices?' _I stood behind Kili, not paying attention to my surroundings. I ran into him from behind and started; I had not realized that he had stopped. Thorin had held out an arm to prevent his boarding the barge. His words chilled my blood and made my heart ache for Kili.

"Not you. We must travel at speed, you will slow us down."

Kili's white face twisted in confusion even as a smile of disbelief appeared. He clearly thought his uncle was joking; surely he couldn't be serious. "What are you talking about? I'm coming with you."

"No, no." Thorin clearly was trying to simultaneously avoid a causing scene and console his nephew. Kili was confused and angry, not to mention hurting both in body and in heart.

"I'm going to be there when that door's opened. When we first look upon the halls of our fathers—Thorin...?" His voice took on a pleading note, and my heart broke for him.

Thorin placed his hands on his nephew's shoulders, speaking softly. His expression was fatherly, and I knew he was trying to help his nephew, even though his actions hurt him. "Kili, stay here. Rest. Join us when you're healed."

Kili looked devastated, watching silently as Thorin turned and boarded the ship. I stood behind him, stunned. I had promised to protect the line of Durin. I could not do so if they split up. _'What do I do?'_

Oin stepped off the barge and made his way over to Kili. I swayed, my vision blurring for a moment, and leaned on Kili's shoulder, blinking away spots. "I'll stay with the lad. My duty lies with the wounded."

Fili turned to his uncle, pleading with him, begging him to reconsider. "Uncle, we grew up on tales of the mountain. Tales _you_ told us. You cannot take that away from him!"

Kili spoke, his voice no more than a murmur. "Fili—"

_'What do I do? Who do I go with? Whom do I protect?'_

Fili plowed on, paying no heed to Kili. His voice rose urgently, pleading with his uncle. "I will carry him if I must!"

Thorin's hand was clamped on the back of Fili's neck, drawing him close. He shook him gently, trying to talk some sense into him. "One day you will be King and you will understand. I cannot risk the fate of this quest for the sake of one dwarf. Not even my own kin."

The golden haired heir stared at him in disbelief. His gaze turned to Kili, and then to me, and then he moved to get off the barge. Thorin grabbed his arm to stop him. "Fili, don't be a fool. You belong with the company."

Fili glared back with the ferocity of a lion, looking more like a king than ever before. His words warmed my heart and made me proud to stand beside someone as loyal as Fili. "I belong with my brother."

He turned and walked off to stand beside Oin and Kili.

_'Whom do I protect?'_

Thorin, looking furious at the delay, turned his gaze upon me. "Aeyera, it is time to go."

The choice was suddenly clear. I shook my head, my entire body shaking like a leaf. Fili gripped my elbow to keep me from collapsing. "No."

He moved until he stood less than a foot from me, his posture menacing. He actually had gotten off the boat to face me, something that proved that he was outraged—nay, _furious_ that I had challenged him. _"What?_"

"I swore to—" I took a deep breath; suddenly such a mundane task as breathing seemed as daunting as moving a mountain. "To protect the—the line of Durin." I sucked in a breath. "I will—but I can not do it from that mountain. This—" I gestured to Fili and Kili, who looked back at me in concern as I took another deep breath. "_This_ is the line of Durin, and it is failing." My lungs were on fire. "I will remain here and protect your nephews." As I spoke, the world spun dizzyingly. I closed my eyes, willing myself not to vomit.

When I opened my eyes, I met Thorin's. He looked concerned now, not angry. "What happened?" he asked, boarding the ship. His eyes did not leave mine.

"I was stabbed by a Morgul blade," I answered. "Those wounds never truly heal. Every year I am struck by this sickness."

"Stay here, then. Heal, then come with the others and meet us at the mountain." He turned and stood at the prow of the ship. A trumpet blared as the Master stepped onto a platform, raising his hands. The ship prepared to cast off.

"Go now with our good will!" He called, smiling his terrible smile. The barge cast off from the dock and began moving with surprising speed down the canal, heading towards the open lake. Much of the company had turned to stare at the four of us that had been left behind.

_'Five,' _I thought lazily. _'Bofur was left here as well.'_

"Wait!" A familiar voice reached my ears. I tried to turn my head but could not; I was too tired. My back and side burned, and my head throbbed.

The Master continued, raising his voice to a shout as the barge reached the lake. "And may your return bring fortune to all!"

"No!" Bofur cried out from next to me. After a moment, he spoke again, noticing us for the first time. "Did you miss the boat as well?"

Suddenly Kili lurched forward, looking close to passing out. Fili leaped forward, catching him. "Kili? Kili!" Bofur grabbed my shoulders as my knees gave way, preventing me from smacking my head on the dock.

"Fili, something's wrong with them," Bofur said, worried. "They've both gone pale, and she's shaking… she's so cold," he finished.

I kept my eyes open, knowing that if I closed them and fell asleep, I might not wake up. "Look for help," I murmured, shaking with cold. "I can try to heal him…"

Fili heard me, and nodded. "Let's go, then." He hoisted his brother up, pulling one of Kili's arms over his own shoulders and keeping a firm grip on it while wrapping his other arm around Kili's chest. Oin helped support Kili from the other side while Bofur picked me up, holding me in his arms. I hadn't realized before just how light I was, or small, but I did not complain. The pain let off briefly, but came back full force a moment later. I groaned, curling in on myself, and squeezed my eyes shut to block out the dizzying images my mind couldn't process.

"Please, help!" Bofur and Oin and Fili kept saying. "They need help!"

No one stopped, no one helped. My friends continued to run around, begging for someone—anyone—to help, but no one did. It must have been hours that we searched, for the pain had grown to an excruciatingly painful pitch. An idea—a memory of a promise—floated to the front of my feverish mind. "Bard," I murmured. It was nearly nighttime again; we had been searching all day for somewhere to rest.

"What? Aeyera?! No, don't go to sleep now—"

"Bard," I managed, fighting off the sleep that I so desperately wanted to escape to. "Find… Bard…"

"Bard? Oh, right, Bard! Fili!" My head lolled as Bofur began to run. I could hear Fili puffing as he all but dragged his brother along with him, and I could hear Oin's heavy footsteps as he followed.

At last I felt Bofur and the others pounding up the steps of Bard's home; heard them bang urgently on his door. I heard him answer almost immediately. "No. I'm done with dwarves, go away!"

"No! No! No one will help us," Bofur yelped, pushing his way to the front. "Aeyera and Kili are sick." He stopped and I heard the plea in his voice. "They're very sick."

After a moment, he spoke. "Alright," the bowman relented. Moments later, I felt myself being laid down on a bed. Someone piled blankets on top of me, trying to warm me up. I curled in on myself, trying to gather enough strength to speak.

The horror of what was happening truly hit me, and my eyes shot open. Bofur and Oin were hovering above me, though they had jumped back at my sudden movement. With more strength than I knew I had, I shoved them both away. "Help Kili," I rasped. "Mine is an old wound. I'll live through the night. He might not." I voice broke, though I didn't think they noticed. The two dwarves nodded and left to go help Kili.

I curled up on my side, shaking, as tears began flooding down my face, into my mouth. _"Why Kili?" _I began speaking in my own tongue, sobbing and rocking back and forth as indescribable waves of agony crashed into me. I could hear Kili crying out, sounding more agonized than I did. I now knew; there was no doubt in my mind that the arrow he had been shot with had had a Morgul shaft. I had been a fool not to see it. I began speaking again, not knowing what language I spoke or who I spoke to. _"You can't go; you must be stronger than I was. _Fight it, please! I _know you can, Kili._ Fight it! _I love you! Kili, _I love you!_"_

My babbling continued far into the night and into the next day. I passed into a feverish state, where everything had a bright outline. Bofur returned to me, holding me down as I continued to sob, incoherently shouting phrases in jumbled Elvish and Westron."Can you not do something?" He shouted to Oin.

Oin was fretting over both Kili and I, not sure whom to treat. "I need herbs, something to bring down their fevers!"

I could see Bard rummaging frantically through a cabinet. "We have nightshade, feverfew—"

"They're no use to me. Do you have any Kingsfoil?" Oin demanded.

"No, it's a weed. We feed it to the pigs." Bard sounded genuinely confused.

"Pigs?" Bofur asked. An idea struck him. "A weed? Right." He turned to face Kili and I. Neither of us could think straight, much less go anywhere, but he said: "Don't move." He turned and ran out of the house, leaving us in Fili and Oin's care.

"Da, what's wrong with them?" Tilda's terrified voice reached my ears, but it was not enough to stop the madness that now was attacking my mind. That was the worst part, I decided. Not the physical agony that tore at every fiber of my being. It was the darkness; the madness in my own mind that crippled me. I could not escape it; not in my body, not in my mind. I was as much of a prisoner now as I had been in Dol Guldur, and I wondered if the Necromancer had planned this.

Kili's agonized screams of pain were even worse than the pain I felt in my head and body. They made my own agony so much worse; his cries were torture in and of themselves. At times he stopped breathing, stopped moving, and I would shriek as though my own heart was being ripped from my chest. I would sob and scream and thrash, trying to reach him, only to be shaken roughly awake by one of the others. My mind had become my prison, and I could not escape from it. I understood now. If Thranduil had taken Kili; if he had tortured him—I would have given him anything. I would have done anything he had wanted.

There was a lull in my pain; for the moment I could think clearly and move without too much difficulty. It was night again. I had passed in and out of consciousness for hours. In the brief respite, I made my way over to Kili, who still lay on another bed. His skin was hot, his face paler than ever. Tears filled my eyes and spilled down my cheeks.

"Kili," I said, my voice a whimper. His fever-glazed eyes found mine. "Kili, I need you to promise me something. I need you to promise me that you will fight this. I know it's going to be hard, and I know you're tired, but I need you to fight. I need you to come back to me, Kili. Hold fast to the light, whatever it is, and do not let it go." I bent so that our noses were nearly touching. "I need you," I whispered. I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his forehead. He wasn't sweating: his fever hadn't broken. His skin was hot as though he had been standing before a raging forge moments before, but the air around me was cool. I spoke once more, hovering inches above him. "I love you."

An earthquake of sorts suddenly hit, making the house rumble. The children looked frightened. "Da?" Sigrid looked to her father for guidance, not sure what to do.

Bain looked out the window at the mountain, visible even in the darkness. "It's coming from the mountain," he informed us, worried.

Fili stepped forward. "You should leave us," he told him. "Take your children and get out of here."

Bard looked at him sadly. "And go where?" He pressed his hand to his daughter Tilda's head, pulling her close as she wrapped her arms around him. "There is nowhere to go."

She looked up at him, fear evident on her face. She was too young to have to experience this; too young to face the horror of death. "Are we going to die, Da?" she asked, close to tears.

"No, darling," he murmured, stroking her hair comfortingly. A pang of sadness hit me, and I realized that I wanted to have a father like this, someone to comfort me when I cried and who would always be their to hold me and tell me that everything would turn out alright. But I didn't, and I never would.

"The dragon," Tilda whimpered. "It's going to kill us."

Releasing his daughter, Bard stalked over to his kitchen and wrenched something down from the rafters. Herbs and dust spilled down onto the table. My mouth fell open when I saw that he held the last black arrow of Girion. He looked around at all of us; his dark eyes alight with fire. "Not if I kill it first."

He left then, Bain following him out.

I stood, daring to hope that maybe the pain and madness had ended. No sooner had the thought crossed my mind than a horrible, indescribable bolt of agony descended upon me. It felt as though lightning had split my skull apart. I could hear someone screaming; a horrible, horrible sound that made me cringe until I realized that it was I who made it.

Someone lifted me off the ground and placed me on something soft, but I didn't care. All I wanted was for this pain to end. Memories, my worst memories, came flooding back, and I could do nothing but watch them. Even good memories appeared, but they were tinged by darkness and turned evil.

_"Soft, green light filters through the leaves. I laugh, such a sweet sound. My mother often says it reminder her of birds singing. She rides behind me now, her hands holding me steady to prevent me from falling. Legolas rides behind us on his own horse, looking carefree without his usual array of weapons. Lately his mind has been focused on Tauriel, the new captain of the guard, and little else. We miss Maladernil, but mother says that he is alright. He is in Lothlórien with the Lady Galadriel, where he will remain until it is his turn to become king._

_ 'Legolas, look!' I cry happily, showing him a flower I had plucked from a branch above my head. Elvish was the only language I know, or cared to know, and it was the only tongue I spoke. 'It's so pretty, Legolas!'_

_ He laughs, blue eyes shining. 'It is, little sister. Not as pretty as you are, though.'_

_ I squeal in delight as mother tickles me, squirming slightly as she picks me up and turned me around to face her. She picks the flower up and places it behind my ear, smiling softly as she braids it in place. 'You look lovely, my darling Aeyera,' she says to me, holding me tightly. 'No star can compare to your beauty.'_

_ I smile, hugging her back. 'I love you, Mama,' I murmur, my voice muffled by her dress. She doesn't answer. The horse we ride stops, and I look up, confused. 'Mama?' She remains silent. Legolas says nothing, and I suddenly am afraid. Before I can ask a question, our horse rears up, nearly throwing me. I begin to cry, trying to hold onto my mother. She picks me up, holding me close. 'My loves, go! Run quickly!' _

_ Before she can say anything else, she throws me to Legolas, and when I look back, a black arrow is protruding from her side. She screams and slumps over, her skin turning white as her dress turns red, and I begin crying hysterically, fighting my brother to reach her. 'Mama!' I cry. Legolas begin to blow his horn, and my dries are drowned out._

_ 'Go!' she screams, turning the horse around. I watch, horrified and confused, as she rides away from us. I can hear shouts in a language I don't know. Legolas rides faster than he ever has before, faster than he's allowed to ride with me with him. We come home and he doesn't stop, he rides straight through the palace until he reaches Ada. Father runs away, taking his weapons and my brother with him. He leaves me with Tauriel."_

"Aeyera," someone said, "Wake up, Princess. You have to wake up." The darkness pulled me back under.

_"__Torture._

_ Agony._

_ Burning._

_ Darkness._

_ Smoke._

_ The pale orc laughs and lifts a whip that glows like fire. "Do you enjoy pain, elfling?" He asks, leering at me. He swings the whip, and I scream as it wraps around me, burning furrows into my arm. "You must: if you did not, you would have ended it by now."_

_ He jerks the whip away, leaving deep, blackened burns in my flesh. They are not so deep that I can see my bone, but I still writhe in agony, sobbing. I cry out and pull in vain at the chains holding my arms to the ceiling, unable to kick the orc away because of the shackles holding my ankles to the stone floor. He laughs and swings the whip again, making it wrap around my right upper arm and across both my shoulders. I arch my back, trying to escape, even though I know any efforts are futile._

_ Darkness surrounds me both inside and out; the shadows of night are reflected by the shadows of madness at the edges of my mind._

_ After an eternity that was only a day, the pale orc unchains my wrist and ankles and allows me to collapse on the ground. He shackles my wrists together and does the same to my ankles, then slings me over his shoulder. Each of his hands large enough to easily wrap itself around my waist and crush me. I cannot move; breathing itself is a chore. He carries me to my cell and throws me to the ground, smiling gruesomely at my weak cries of pain. Unlike other nights, however, the shadow that would descend upon my cell did not immediately come, and I glance over at the knife in the corner, a plan forming in my mind. The pale orc frowns and steps into the cell, facing away from me. Taking a risk, I reach over and, grab the knife in my fists, every fiber of my being screaming in protest. I lunge, hoping to plunge the blade into the orc's heart._

_ However, the sound of my chains scraping against the floor alerts him, and he turns, backhanding me and sending me flying to the opposite wall. Pain explodes in my back and head as they make contact with the chipped rock, and I crumple to the ground in pain, looking blearily over at the pale orc, who reaches down to pick up the knife I had dropped. He grins and kneels next to me, tracing my face with the dark blade._

_ "You have wondered about this knife," he whispers. "And I will tell you about it. This is a Morgul blade. It gives a wound that will never heal, that will bring agony both to body and mind no matter how many years pass. It is a torture that few have been forced to endure." A terrible sort of glee enters his eyes. "I do not doubt that it will consume you," he whispers. "I look forward to watching you fade_._"_

_ At the last word, he plunges the knife into my side up to the hilt, and I scream, curling in on myself as the world flashed white. The blade is like ice, burning, but the fire spreads through my veins, making me writhe like a worm on a hook. I feel the point of the knife break through skin and flesh of my back, and I shriek and sob, on and on, and the pain continues to build in intensity._

_ The orc stands and turns, intent on leaving me in the cell, but before he can, the shadow appears at the door, weaker than before._

_ I do not know what language it speaks in. However, I do catch the words "Thror," "Moria," and "Durin." The orc grins and walks out as the shadow fades completely._

_ I lie dazed and dying as Dol Guldur empties, all the orcs and goblins heading to Moria. I continue to twist, trying to escape the unrelenting pain. I grip the handle of the knife, hoping to pull it out and use it to break my chains, but I am too weak. I remain motionless, my breathing becoming ragged, and darkness began to encroach on my vision. My body begins to convulse, and still I cry out. There is so much I regret, but I cannot remember even what it is. Did I have a family? Did I have a friend? The pain suddenly begins to ebb, and someone is calling my name. _

_ 'Aeyera!'_

_ My name, that's my name. It's been so long—_

_ '_Aeyera!_'_

_ Someone is calling me, who—__"_

"Aeyera!"

My eyes snap open. An orc stands above me, but before I can scream, an arrow appears in his throat. It falls to its knees and then on its face, unmoving. I look around. The only word to describe what is going on is chaos. There are orcs fighting children: Sigrid, Tilda, Bain; and also Fili, and Ori, and—Legolas? Tauriel?

The fight is blurry, going in and out of focus. Tauriel leaps by, as graceful as a deer, her red hair shining like flames. The next moment, Fili rushes to parry a blade slicing towards my chest, his face a spectral white, framed in shadow.

The last of the orcs had gone, and Tauriel and Legolas still remained. I could hear them speaking, and could make sense of it all.

Bain spoke first, sounding shocked. "You killed them all."

Kili moaned in pain. I tried to move and echoed him, unable to reach his side.

"We're losing him!" Oin shouted. "Someone check on Aeyera!"

"Aeyera?" Sigrid hovers above me, pressing a wet cloth to my skin. "I heard what you said to Kili…"

"Legolas," Tauriel said softly. "Let me heal him; look after your sister. When they are well, we will hunt down the orcs."

Sigrid continued speaking. "And you can't leave either, there are people who care about you, people who love you and need you…"

"We have nothing to heal them with," Legolas replies, sounding distraught.

Suddenly, I hear someone run into one of the elves, and I hear Tauriel speak, sounding amazed. "Athelas."

"What are you doing?" Bofur asked, nervous. I turn my head to face her, hope growing in my heart. She could heal him.

Tauriel spoke, sounding elated, and I see that she is looking at me. "I'm going to save him." She steps over to me. "I'm going to save both of you."


	14. Chapter 14

At that moment, pain like molten iron spread through my veins and I screamed, arching my back in an attempt to escape it. I thrashed, falling to the floor, tears pouring from my eyes as I screamed so loudly that I thought my throat would tear.

_"Legolas, help her!" _Tauriel commanded, rushing to boil the Athelas so that she might save Kili and I.

I felt someone's hands cover mine. Someone was holding me down—I screamed and screamed even though I could barely hear the sound. I struck out with my fists, my feet; I clawed with my nails—trying as best my scrambled mind knew how to save myself. Myself? What about Kili?

_"No," _I moaned, my voice raspy and barely a whisper. _"Kili—"_

His screams nearly brought an end to my sanity then and there. Something inside me snapped, and the next thing I knew, there was no one on top of me; I had thrown them off.

I was rising to my feet, unhindered. My vision had changed; no longer did I see the world in color: all was made of shadow. Faces shone like moons, darkness swirling around them. A voice touched my ears, sounding as if I was hearing it from underwater.

_"I'm sorry." _

A sharp pain exploded in the back of my head, and I collapsed into nothingness, a dream engulfing me.

_"'Aeyera, fall back! Find Fili and Kili!' Thorin's desperate voice leaves no room for argument, but Dwalin steps forward anyway._

_ 'Are you sure about this?'_

_ 'Go,' the king commands. King? Was he really the king now? 'We live to fight another day.'_

_ I nod and turn, ready to fly over the ice to save my friends, but a nightmarish scene stops me in my tracks. Azog emerges from the shadows ahead, dragging Kili behind him. Fili and Thorin stand beside me now, one on either side, staring at me._

_ 'Choose,' they tell me, tears running down their cheeks. Their identical blue eyes bore into me. 'Choose.' _

_ Bilbo and Dwalin have vanished. My mouth opens in a scream, but no sound comes out. Azog lifts Kili up, holding him over an endless drop._

_ My voice begins to work again. 'No!' I scream. 'Take me, please! Kill me instead!' He laughs. Suddenly he stabs forward, embedding an arrow in Kili's leg and snapping off the shaft, leaving the head buried in his flesh. The prince shouts in pain, and the orc tosses Kili forward. I can hear his screams. I begin running—flying forward. Suddenly my feet no longer touch the ice; I have reached the abyss. Darkness swirls beneath my feet, but I leap forward anyway. Something holds me up, and I rush to him. My arms wrap around Kili, holding him tight._

_ 'Don't you let go,' I tell him, struggling to keep him in the air. I realize now how we are still alive: I have wings; I really am flying. A sudden pain makes me drop several feet. I look down to see blood spurting from the wound in my side, soaking through my armor. 'Don't let go,' I murmur, tears slipping down my cheeks. 'Don't leave me.'_

_ 'Aeyera,' he whispers, meeting my gaze. His eyes are wild; panicked. I have never seen someone so afraid. I pour all my strength into making it to the ice; I have to. I have to save Kili. My wings begin to move down, propelling me forward. I make it to the side of the ice wall before their strength gives out. I look down to reassure Kili, to let him know that everything will be okay, but he is gone; his body has disappeared. I am alone._

_ 'Kili? Kili!' I am crying now, gripping the ice as tightly as I can. My arms shake; I have no strength left. The darkness below me seems to swirl faster, calling to me. Give in, it seemed to say. Just give up. _

_ 'No,' I grunt, reaching up and grabbing a spit of ice above me. I haul myself upwards, shouting as my muscles scream in pain. I ignore it. I ignore the voices, ignore the pain, and focus on getting myself out of here. 'I will not die. Not like this. I will die… on my own terms. I will not die without saying goodbye.' When I am almost at the top, the darkness seems to thicken. A sudden pain shoots through me, such that I have never felt before. I cry out, tears running down my cheeks. I reach up and grab at the ice, digging my nails into the slick surface. I manage to pull myself up, rolling onto the ice on my back. I have never felt so tired; so utterly exhausted._

_ 'Well done, Princess.'_

_ I look up. Legolas stands there, Maladernil by his side. Fili and Thorin flank them._

_ 'Where is Kili?' I breathe, my heart seizing._

_ 'He is fighting his own battle,' Thorin says softly. 'But you did help him a bit.'_

_ 'You saved him from falling,' Fili tells me. 'And gave him something to fight for.'_

_ 'Can I…' I cough, my mouth dry. 'Can I save him?'_

_ 'No,' Legolas says, smiling softly. He kneels down to look me in the eye. 'He must save himself.'_

_ 'What do I do now?' I ask, lying back on the ice. _

_ 'Let me see your wound, child.'_

_ I lift my head, new tears brimming in my eyes. 'Mother?' I whisper. I can't believe it. My mother stands beside me, one hand on Legolas's arm, the other on Maladernil's. They nod and lead the others away; I cannot see where they go. She looks just as I remembered—her green eyes sparkle, her dark curls spill over her shoulders and down her back in shimmering waves. As she moves, I catch her familiar scent: pine needles and the scent of rain._

_ She smiles. 'Yes, my love.' She kneels down beside me, smoothing my hair back._

_ 'What—? How—?' I can't seem to speak. I can only stare in awe._

_ 'Hush, my dear,' she says, pushing me down gently. She removes my armor, casting it aside. She pulls up my tunic to reveal the wound. 'Oh, Aeyera,' she says, touching my face gently with her hand. 'I am so sorry. I only wish…' She catches herself and pauses, shaking her head sadly. 'No, I cannot wish that.' She gazes at me fondly, tears sparkling like stars in her eyes. 'I am so proud of the lady you have become,' she told me._

_ "Why did you leave me?" I ask, eyes filling with tears. "Did you know what father would do to me? What he would become?"_

_ Sorrow fills her eyes, and she shakes her head. "I had no choice, my daughter. I did not know what path your father would take, and I am angry that he chose the one he did. It will lead only to darkness, I am sure."_

_ 'Are you really here?' I ask her._

_ 'No,' she sighs. 'I am not. You are dreaming, dear one.'_

_ 'So… so none of this is real?' I say, feeling very small. She takes out a handful of Athelas and crushes it. Its sharp scent reaches my nose, and she presses it to the bleeding wound. The blood is tainted black, as if poisoned. She begins singing softly, and the pain ebbs slowly. My mother begins to shine, glimmering like the night sky. As the pain and the scar fades, so does she._

_ 'Mother—' I say, sitting up. She is almost gone. 'Wait!'_

_ 'I love you,' she says, smiling sadly as a tear falls down her cheek._

_ 'But… you're not here!' I say, weeping. 'None of this is real!'_

_ Her hand cups my cheek gently. 'I am not here,' she agreed. 'But why does that make any of this less real?'_

_ I catch her hand as she disappears. 'Please,' I beg, my voice a whimper. 'Please don't leave me.'_

_ 'I have never left you,' she whispers. A moment later she adds, 'I love you, my dear. Take care of Legolas and Maladernil; tell them I love them as well.'"_

I opened my eyes. The first thing I saw was the ceiling; there was a large hole in it directly above where I lay, and thatch hung down from it. Several pieces lay on my chest. The second thing I noticed was my brother, who was even paler than usual. Legolas stood above me, gripping my hands tightly in his own. He smiled wearily down at me, and I realized that my pain was completely gone. I sat up. "How long?" I asked.

"Only a few minutes."

I pressed my hand to my side. Nothing happened. Elation began to bubble up within me, and I looked to my brother. I was sure I looked overjoyed, for his eyes shone as he smiled. I could only manage one word. "How?"

He shook his head in wonder. "I do not know," he answered, smiling brightly. I pulled up my tunic and stared at the old wound: the scar looked like any other might, and the veins surrounding it no longer poisoned my blood.

Poison… I looked around. "Where is Kili?" I asked. I remembered my dream, how I tried to carry him out of the abyss but was unable to; how he had to fight that battle on his own. Legolas nodded towards the next room, and I climbed out of the bed, shoving the blankets on top of me to the side. I was strong; my steps were unwavering. I entered the room where Fili and Oin stood against one wall. Fili looked terrible, nearly as bad as his brother. His face was pale and drawn, but his sickness was from worry instead of injury.

Tauriel was preparing to begin healing Kili. His head rested on a wag of walnuts. I presumed it was because of his fever; they needed to prop his head up without him overheating. She pulled the Athelas from a pot of steaming water as I stepped over to her side.

"Let me," I told her. She opened her mouth to argue, but something in my expression must have convinced her otherwise. "Please."

She handed the Athelas to me and stepped back to my brother's side. They stood like sentinels in the corner, watching me. I took a deep breath and pressed the soggy plant against the now blackened wound, praying to the Valar with all the strength in my heart. _"Save him," _I said softly in elvish. _"I need him. Remove the poison from his blood; cleanse his body of this evil. Let not his mind become overcome by darkness, but allow him to return to the light." _

As I spoke, I became aware that there was no shadow in my mind. No longer were my thoughts controlled by darkness; no longer would madness lurk in the corners of my mind. My heart lifted: I was free. I continued praying, alternatively thanking and begging the Valar. _"You healed me," _I reminded them, quite certain that they remembered their actions from moments before._ "And therefore you must have a plan for me. I swore on my life that I would protect the line of Durin; you cannot change my decision, and you sang that I would honor my word. If it is in your song that he die," _I said, my voice rising in earnest, _"Then do not let it be now. Let him live longer than this. If it is your will to heal him, do it quickly!" _ Kili yelled in pain, his eyes glazed over. Desperation seized my heart, and I poured all my love, my fear, my uncertainty, into healing him. I drew upon my own energy. I could feel it sapping my strength, but I didn't care. _"Eru," _I called upon the One and the Valar by name_. "Manwe, __Mandos, Lorien, Varda, Este, Nienna—__please,__" _my voice broke. _"I watched him die, and this was not how—__you must have a plan for him."_

His struggles began to weaken, and I placed my free hand at his neck to feel his pulse. My hand shook as I touched his skin. He burned with fever so much that I nearly tore my hand away with a scream at the heat. Kili's eyes moved beneath their lids as if he was trapped in a nightmare. His pulse was faint, but steady. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, but it hitched suddenly, because he stopped moving. My heart leapt into my throat as I pressed my fingers against his neck, searching frantically for a pulse. I couldn't find one. His heart wasn't beating.

_ "This is not an honorable death," _I screamed out, making most everyone in the room jump_. _I saw Fili start forward, but Oin and Bofur held him back. I could tell he didn't know what was going on, but I was too focused, too terrified, to tell him. Legolas watched me sadly from the edge of the room but made no move to interfere. _"Please, you must spare him. PLEASE! Heal him!" _I cried out, letting all my frustration and terror and pain out in the one breath. I yelled at the Valar, anger and determination singing through my veins._ "Bring—him—back!__"_

Kili gasped, his eyes flying open. Something was wrong; there was a film over his eyes, almost as though cobwebs were blanketed over them. He gasped for breath, and his pulse began to race. I began reciting an old incantation, pressing the Athelas on the wound with as much pressure as I dared to use.

He screamed in pain, squeezing his eyes shut, and the sound tore at my heart. He thrashed, desperately trying to get away. Sigrid rushed over, holding his left arm and leg down. "Tilda!" Her younger sister ran over to help, putting all her weight on his right arm.

I continued the incantation, feeling the life flowing through my fingers into his body. Slowly, he began to calm down. His eyes were open now, watching me with something akin to wonder. I continued on until he had fully relaxed. The wound had closed up beneath my fingertips, leaving a scar that matched my own.

I fell back, exhausted. Legolas came to me, his eyes kind. He hugged me, holding me tight to his chest. "You frightened me," he said softly, his breath ruffling my hair. I trembled in his grasp, the terror of the last few minutes finally reaching me. "When you began to fade, I thought—"

"Fade?" I repeated, pulling away from him. I still shook, but I was distracted now. "When did this happen?" My heart began to race. When I dreamed, was I really dying? Was I passing into the Shadow Realm? Was I… becoming a wraith? Surely not, elves fought harder, we couldn't be taken in… could we?

"Right after Tauriel said she would help save you both, you collapsed. When the dwarf began shouting…" he trailed off, but I could see the rest in his eyes: his fear, confusion, and uncertainty. He continued on anyway. "It was as if you were possessed. You threw me off somehow and stood up, but you… you weren't…" he frowned in frustration, searching for the right words. "It was as if you had become the opposite of who you really were," he said finally. "Your eyes were black. Not just your irises, but also your entire eye. You weren't in pain anymore, but the expression on your face…"

A horrible thought appeared. "Did it—" I licked my lips, afraid to ask. "Did I remind you of… of a wraith?"

He stared at me wordlessly for several seconds, and it was enough confirmation for me. I moved to turn away, but he stopped me. "No," he said, although his voice sounded panicked. "No, you didn't—"

"Do not lie to me, Legolas," I said, feeling as though my voice was detached from my body. "I know you. I reminded you of a wraith, didn't I?"

He didn't answer me. He couldn't. I knew the truth. I understood now, elves could be changed. At one point, we were corrupted—perhaps during the Valar's song to Eru, when Morgoth twisted some of the first of us with his magic; twisted us into orcs. I rested against my brother, feeling a tear slip down my face. "Legolas?" I said, remembering my dream and smiling a bit. His arm rested on my shoulders, protective and comforting.

"Yes, Aeyera?"

"Mother says that she loves you." He pulled away, shocked. I explained as best I could, and at the end his eyes shone with tears.

He nodded as I concluded with my waking up with a healed wound and no more darkness in my mind. "I see," he said. He didn't, of course, but I decided to agree.

"Legolas," Tauriel said softly, making her way to us. Her golden eyes shone as she inclined her head to me respectfully. "We must go. The orcs have made their way east, we must follow."

He nodded and followed her to the door. _"I will see you soon, little sister," _he said. Without another word, or waiting for my response, the two elves took their leave, leaving the rest of us alone.

Oin watched me carefully from across the room. "I've heard tale of the wonders of elvish medicine. That was a privilege to witness."

I smiled softly and pressed a cool rag on Kili's forehead. He was sweating now; his fever had finally broken. His clothing had become drenched in sweat in seconds; he looked as though he had just taken a swim in the lake.

When I looked at his face, my heart leapt within me. His eyes were open, and they were the same deep brown orbs I had fallen in love with, along with the rest of him, of course. He was whole again. He spoke, looking up at me deliriously. Well, almost whole. "Aeyera?"

I smiled softly, smoothing his hair back from his face. I wanted nothing more than to hug him, kiss him, tell him everything was going to be alright; but I had to restrain myself until he was better. "Lie still."

His heart beat steadily against my fingers, mirroring my own. I drank him in, taking in the warmth of his skin, the sound of his voice. He stared up at the ceiling, a tear slipping down his face. His skin still was pale, but color had returned to his cheeks. His eyes were clear of the cobwebs of madness, but he still was confused. "You cannot be her. She is far away. She... she is far, far away from me. She walks in starlight in another world. It was just a dream." He touched my hand lightly, his fingertips burning against my own. His brown eyes bored into mine. "Do you think she could have loved me?"

I stared at him, unsure of how to answer. My heart pounded against my chest as if it were trying to escape it. Didn't he know I loved him already? Fili watched me closely; I could feel his blue eyes burning into me from across the room.

"Yes," I told him, a tear slipping down my face. I wiped it away quickly, sniffing, and smiled to cover it up. "Yes, I do. I think she loves you very, very much."

He smiled up at me, staring into my eyes. The next question he asked shocked me so that I stood speechless. "Do you think she would have married me?"

My mouth dropped open, and suddenly it became very hard to breathe. I knew the answer; of course I knew the answer, but I could not say it. He fell asleep before I could find my tongue, his hand dropping from mine. Fili came over and covered him with a blanket, then wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

"Are you alright?" he asked, saying nothing about what had just transpired between his brother and I.

I shook my head frantically. "No, no, Fili, I'm not alright, I'm not… I'm not alright—" He lead me to the fire and made me sit down in a chair by it, and I buried by face in my hands as horror flooded through me. I felt him sit down beside me, and I could feel his gaze upon me as he waited for me to continue. It was nearly ten minutes before I could speak again. We sat in silence, and he waited patiently for me to calm down enough to speak. "Fili, his—his heart st-stopped."

"What?" his voice was horrified, and I looked up in time to see my own terror reflected back at me through his eyes. I could feel my grip on sanity slipping—this time for another reason—and I fought to keep my emotions under control. "What do you mean?"

I tried to explain, not sure how many meanings my previous explanation actually had. "While I was healing him, h-his heart stopped beating, and he stopped breathing. He was dead, b-but he came back—" I began sobbing in earnest, burying my face in Fili's coat. I could feel him shaking. It was a long time before either of us spoke. He held onto me, holding me as I wept.

"That's why you screamed," he clarified after a whilt. He took my silence as confirmation. I felt him take a shuddering breath, his heart beating quickly against his chest. "What were you saying while you healed him?"

It took several minutes, but I finally regained my composure enough to speak. I pulled away from Fili, rubbing my eyes. "I was praying," I told him. "And as I prayed, I was asking Eru and the Valar to heal him. They sang the universe into existence, and they sang of everything that would happen, and I know that Kili is in their plan somewhere, so I begged them to heal him."

"But then why did you scream?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing together.

I took a deep breath. "Because his heart stopped beating," I told him. "And he stopped breathing. I told the Valar—I yelled that his was not an honorable death. I screamed at them to bring him back." I lifted my gaze to meet Fili's intense blue one. "And they did."

He looked rather impressed. He took my hand and kissed it, his braided mustache tickling my fingers. "I am very, very thankful to have known you, Princess," he said, "and I am in your debt. I do not know what I would do if I lost my brother—thank you for making sure I do not have to."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I lay back against the chair and let my eyes flutter closed. A sudden noise startled me, and I jumped, jerking awake. It was later in the night; I had been asleep for several hours. I stood and moved to the window. The base of the mountain was glowing, and I felt the blood drain from my face.

I heard a roar, and I yelled for everyone to be silent. They did as I bade them, and as I listened, I heard six words that froze my heart. Even though I knew that no one else could hear them yet, I was still terrified, knowing that a terrible monster was coming, such that few here had ever seen, save me. I gripped the doorframe tightly, my knuckles turning white. **"I am fire. I am… death."**

**End of Book 2**


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